Crescendo
by GodSaveTheKings
Summary: Since Kuvira's defeat, Korra has found peace. Aside from trying to find time with her always-busy girlfriend and trying to serve as a role model as the Avatar, there doesn't seem to be any problem she can't face. But when strange murders start occurring in Republic City, seemingly connected to her, Korra finds that even the strongest of wills can break when pushed too far.
1. The Boy Who Always Smiled (Prologue)

**Note: Welcome to "Crescendo". Before your read, we wish to warn you that the story contains violent and possibly disturbing content, so be advised. This opening chapter acts as more of a prologue before things really get going, but we try to update frequently so that more will happen soon. Also, we highly value feedback, so if you have anything you want to say, we encourage you to let us know. It really helps the writing process. Thanks, and enjoy.**

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It was love at first sight.

The immeasurable love the boy felt at that moment easily surmounted every tangible feeling he had before. And yet, his emotions did not overwhelm him, but bubbled softly beneath the surface. As the leaves fell tenderly to the plush soil below, the boy felt an incredibly calming sensation run through him. Even with the blackness of the ground and the chillness of the wind blowing through the air with mild force, and the emptiness around him, he felt blissful, gazing openly, wondrously, in shock and awe, at the magnificent beauty before him.

Yes, he decided. It was truly a brilliant statue.

The boy was only five when the granite statue of the Avatar was constructed, but now he was twelve, and his mind had matured in ways his superiors would never have dreamed of. He could truly admire the piece of artwork for all that it represented, all of its cracks and ridges forming perfectly into a single, astounding vision.

Oh, there were so many things to admire about the Avatar statue. For one, it stood tall and proud in the middle of Avatar Korra Park, a park so lovely and serene that no one ever happened to be walking by when the boy was present. It gave him time to relax and admire the statue in all of its glory. But that was just the atmosphere, and the boy could amuse himself for hours about the various activities taken by others in the area, many of which he had only heard of, and never seen.

But of course, anyone who could not appreciate the full grace of the statue itself, in his eyes, was completely insane. The amount of craftsmanship placed into every nook and cranny of the Avatar's face was awe-inspiring to him. The boy had once taken upon himself to compare the statue to the actual Avatar's appearance, based on a newspaper clipping he had acquired when he was ten. He had concluded, after spending hours upon hours gazing at both objects with squinted eyes and a stuck-out tongue, that even though the statue was based upon Korra when she was eighteen years of age, and the photo he had of her was from when she was twenty-three years of age, the two were almost, nearly, meticulously identical in every way conceivably possible.

This, as well, amused the boy very much.

Then, naturally, there was the legend, which he might have enjoyed more than the statue, if he was honest with himself. What was there not to enjoy about the legend? It was a classic story of friendship, family, comedy, tragedy, triumph. A story of a young girl destined for greatness with impossible expectations, and achieving greatness beyond anyone's wildest imaginations. The boy very much liked that story. He liked it so much, in fact, that he wished he could have taken part in such a globe-trotting, high-thrill adventure. For him, that was a rather impressive feat, because as far back as he could remember, nothing impressed him at all. None of the great Water Tribe legends or Earth Kingdom folklore ever seemed to elicit a response from him when he was younger. They simply seemed boring to an advanced intellect like him, for what did adults know about entertainment anyway? However, this particular tale of the Avatar, of the Equalists, of the Spirit Portals, of the Red Lotus, of the Earth Empire, of companionship, of emotion, of fear, of pain, of love; it all seemed so indescribably perfect to him, that even at the slightest mention he would burst into fits of unparalleled glee.

Thus, it was decided at the ripe age of eleven, that he would make visits to the Avatar statue once per month, in order to fully pay tribute to all that the site meant to both him and the world. Every morning of those special days, he would wake up from his bed, put on his fanciest attire, take the twenty minute stroll from his abode to Avatar Korra Park, sit in front of the statue cross-legged, and stare at the statue for at least a good hour or two, always making sure to smile as brightly as he could at the memories that flooded his mind.

This lasted for two months before the boy realized that it was not good enough, so he increased his visitation to once every two weeks. A few weeks later, when he still felt unsatisfied, he raised his quota to once per week.

At this point, he felt he had properly managed his time to only visiting the statue once every three or four days, which led him in front of the statue early one morning near the end of summer, the soil beginning to fade black and wind brushing through the air carelessly. His routine was no different this day than it was any other. He sat cross-legged in front of the statue, humming a light tune to himself in the empty field. The tremendous stories had already begun flowing through his thoughts like a raging storm, filling him with such happiness that the wind was numb upon his skin.

After one hour and fifteen minutes had passed, the boy stood up, brushed himself off, and bowed to the statue gracefully. He continued to hum his merry tune as we went home on his usual path, counting his several thousand steps he would need to take back to his home.

However, something distracted his along the path. Located exactly three hundred and forty-two steps away from the statue was a park bench, to which he held no particular affinity. Often when passing by this bench, he would spot a small squirrel scurrying about with two oversized nuts in its cheeks, puffing out like inflated balloons. The squirrel was such a common sight that he usually found his eyes wandering to it whenever he passed.

Yet, on this random morning, the squirrel was nowhere to be seen. Instead, someone sat there, occupying the bench, interrupting the flow of the scenery. As the boy walked past, he examined the woman carefully, and in all but a moment, his heart filled up with an incredible sense of discovery. The woman, dressed in blue and fur, brown hands pressed together on her lap, blue eyes gazing inattentively into the distance with a youthful mind lost well in thought, was caught in the eyes of the boy for well over a minute before his mind snapped back to reality.

Why, that was the Avatar sitting on that bench.

Korra, as it turned out, despite arguably being one of the most important people in the world, was never called out in public much. No tabloids caught her eating at lunch, no autograph hungry fans clamored for her attention, and no one aside from her friends and politicians ever gave her much of a thought. She supposed that her lack of fame was probably due to a vast misunderstanding and confusion of her role as "bridge between two worlds", even though that was hardly much of a problem anymore. Who would be a part of her fan club anyway? Given all of the mover stars and dashing models and corporate giants, the celebrity world treated her as a small fry; a situation she was perfectly comfortable with.

So, she was rather surprised when a small boy walked up to her, and smiled brightly.

"You're the Avatar, aren't you?"

Korra turned her head, and looked at her new company. He was a young boy with shaggy, black hair that fell all over his face, big, staring, brown eyes that looked at her markedly, and a massive smile that never seemed to fade. He wore something of a dark grey suit, buttoned down the chest, matching slacks, and spiffy black shoes that were one size too big.

"Avatar Korra?" the boy repeated. Korra shook her head, and gathered her attention.

"Uh, yes?" she responded.

"I'm Masaki," said the boy with satisfaction. "It's really a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh… thank you," Korra said with a small smile. She looked left and right, but no one was around. "What are you doing here all alone, Masaki?"

"I was walking down the path over there, and I saw you over here."

"Mmhmm."

Korra looked carefully at the boy. He simply smiled back.

"Hey Masaki, how old are you?"

"Twelve," Masaki said with a grin. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Korra giggled. "Well, not a lot of twelve year olds are walking in the middle of this park without any adults around. We should really get you back home safe."

"That's not important now," Masaki insisted. "It's not every day I get to meet the Avatar. I must say, you look a lot prettier in person than you do in stone."

"Aw, thanks. That's sweet of you."

"Hey, would you mind if I asked some questions?"

"Uh…" Korra stammered. The boy's smile never let up, not even a smudge. Several different thoughts ran through Korra's mind. The first was that this child was actually starting to creep her out, just a tiny bit. The second was that she needed to get this mildly creepy child back to his parents. Even though the park was named after her, she would be lying to herself to suggest that it was wholesome all of the time. There could be a million thugs or kidnappers waiting around every corner, and the boy looked rather small and defenseless. The third thought that ran through Korra's mind was that she had an admirer. Korra never had an admirer before, and even though Masaki was someone creepy with his never-ending smile, he was also undeniably cute, with his small stature and big shoes and shaggy hair. And so, Korra figured, since she was going to stick with the kid anyway, she might as well amuse him.

"Alright, alright," Korra gave-in happily. "What do you want to know?"

Masaki froze, his smile falling from his face. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but the occasion overwhelmed him, and he had no idea what to say.

"Um… uh…" he twitched. "Do you… well… do you like being the Avatar?"

Korra smiled gently. "Yeah. I really like being the Avatar. It's probably the best thing about me."

"What… what's your favorite element?"

"My favorite?" Korra thought about the question hard. "That's hard to describe. They all have their strengths and weaknesses. Water is my native element, and it's cool and gentle, and can heal as well as attack. Earth is stable and sturdy, and fire has a lot of beauty behind it. But I might have to say air, because of the balance it brings. It requires a lot of focus to maintain, and after all of the trouble I went through to achieve it, and the times the… tranquility and peace it brought me helped me through some tough times…"

Masaki stared at her, showing no change of expression. Korra mentally slapped herself. She was talking to a kid. More so, she was talking to a young boy. Did young boys care about tranquility and peace? Did this boy actually want to hear a life lesson? She should have known better. After all, she was a kid once, wasn't she?

"Nah, who am I kidding?" Korra said with a shrug. "Fire's definitely the coolest. It's pretty freaking awesome to shoot flames out of your hands."

Masaki looked at her quizzically, but soon resumed gazing at her in wonder, as if staring into a magnificent star.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know?" Korra asked, actually feeling a small burst of joy making someone else so happy by doing such a simple task.

"So…" Masaki asked. "Where do you live?"

"Air Temple Island, although I've actually started looking for a place in the city. It's hard when you're traveling around so much."

"Do you have a favorite restaurant?"

"Ochi's Seafood, right near the west side of the park."

"What's your favorite food."

"Sea crab soup."

"What's your favorite nation?"

"I don't have one."

"What's your favorite sport?"

"Pro-bending. I used to play it."

"Why did you stop?"

"Avatar duties. I'm still a fan though."

"What's your favorite thing to do?"

"Bend."

"What's your least favorite thing to do?"

"Doing nothing, actually."

"Are you scared of anything at all?"

"Everyone's scared of something. I'm afraid of… uh, bugs. Yeah, bugs and spiders and crawly things. I think."

"Are you lying?"

"Wha—no, never! Why would I do that?"

"Do you like watching movers?"

"No."

"Do you like going shopping?"

"No."

"Do you like sitting around in random park benches?"

"No. This is a rare thing for me, actually."

"Why so? Don't you like the quiet?"

"Not usually. It's one thing to have quiet while meditating, but I think I like being a part of more active things."

"Doesn't it get lonely being the Avatar though? Having all of that power, all of that wisdom, and no one who can understand it all?"

"Well… yes, a little. Being the Avatar is, well, a heavy burden. There is a lot of responsibility on my shoulders, and if I tried doing everything on my own, I'd probably fail—actually, I know I'd fail. Luckily, I have a lot of friends who are able to support me."

Masaki seemed to find this statement rather odd, and pressed forward with a confused look plastered on his face. "The Avatar has friends?"

Korra nodded. "I have plenty of friends?"

"You mean… actual friends? Close friends?"

"Very close."

"Even though none of them are like you? Even though you're the Avatar, and they're just… people? I don't get it. Why does the Avatar need friends?"

"Everyone needs friends at some point, Masaki," Korra said softly, knowingly. Years of Avatar wisdom told her she needed to say something. Somehow, she felt that this was important to emphasize for the boy with the grey suit and big shoes and shaggy hair. "Having all of this power wouldn't mean anything if I didn't have anyone to share them with. I'm not better than anyone, really. They all have parts of them that make them special, like I do, or you do. It's combining those attributes with others that make the difference. I hope that makes sense to you."

"Ohhhhh," Masaki said, rocking on the balls of his feet. He smiled cunningly. "So… do you have a boyfriend?"

Korra nearly jumped out of the bench upon hearing the question, looking as far away from the boy as possible. "Uh… that's complicated."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"That's also complicated."

"Does he/she not appreciate you enough?"

"Can we not talk about my dating habits?"

"Is your sex life okay?"

"How—what!? How do you even know about… don't ask people about that!"

"Oh, are you in one of those 'swinger relationships' I heard about—"

"Okay, enough questions!" Korra said suddenly, rising from the bench. Her cheeks with hot and she pressed her hand against her forehead in embarrassment. "Now that we've got that stuff out in the open, let's go find your way home."

Masaki, as always, simply smiled at her.

"Oh, Korra. I've always known my way back. I just wanted the chance to finally meet you."

Before Korra could inquire further about what he was talking about, Masaki lowered himself into a bow, and then happily walked away.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Miss Avatar!" he called to her, waving over his shoulder. "Good luck having friends!"

Korra watched the boy leave in utter confusion. She had not meant to lose her cool like that, especially in front of such a small boy. Those last few questions were a bit too personal in her opinion. Then again, given what Masaki was talking about, she doubted he had that much of an innocent mind to taint.

She hoped that she helped him, somehow. He must have had trouble making friends. If she was his role model of some kind, then maybe he would take her words to heart.

Korra looked out at Republic City, the city she had grown to love. So much had changed since she had first arrived. She remembered her eagerness, her brashness, her egotism, and her curiosity upon entering the streets for the first time. That was nearly eight years ago, and still she remained in the urban jungle. Through all of the hardships she had to deal with throughout her life, through all of the crazed cult leaders and war hungry soldiers, she had managed to survive. She had built a new life for herself within this world, one of trust, love, and peace. She thought one more time of the boy, and smiled as he vanished from sight.

In just a few short weeks, she would sink to her knees and cry, staring at his lifeless body and wondering where it all went wrong.


	2. Relationships

**Note: This story is retroactively being updated and condensed to fix pacing issues. As such, the following chapter contains what used to be the original second and third chapters; other slight changes and adjustments have been made to the text to bring it within context of later chapters.**

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It was close to evening when Korra approached the Future Industries warehouse. The sun was beginning to set over the distant mountains, past the bright green beam puncturing its way into the heavens. The wind had significantly picked up since that morning, blowing away stray, multi-colored leaves and loose scraps of paper someone had emptied near the dock.

Korra never visited the warehouse all that often, for there was nothing there for her to see. She knew nothing of industry or economics, crafting or constructing, smelting or welding. Being the Avatar required a keen respect towards nature, and the massive industrialization efforts taken by the modern world but a mild hamper on that aspect of her life. In fact, Korra rarely drove anywhere in her sleek black Satomobile that she acquired three years prior. The only reason she was driving it on this night was due to her special summoning by a highly-valued acquaintance.

Korra, being wise, knew not to miss out whenever Asami Sato called for her. It had been twenty-four days since she and the genius chief executive officer of Future Industries had seen each other, and exactly three days since Asami had returned to Republic City. When Korra initially heard of her friend's return, it was past midnight, and she was so horribly tired that it was impossible to sleep.

Jinora, who was also restless and wandering, informed Korra that Asami's airship had docked, resulting in the normally at-peace Avatar to spring around the room, throw on clothes, and nearly swim her way to the Sato Estate before Jinora forced her back into bed, using only the power of teenage rebellion to help her. The poor Avatar had to wait another day before making any sort of contact due to an important meeting with President Reiko, and even then, she was limited to a short, two-minute phone call, which was kept brief and restrictive thanks to the ever-looming presence of Tenzin waiting to use the phone afterwards. What that conversation consisted of was even worse for Korra, because Asami openly refused to see her until the next night, claiming to be working hard on an important project and unable to dedicate any free time until those specified hours.

Back in reality, Korra swerved to the right. Her reminiscing had caused her to lose sight of the road, and nearly plunge headfirst into the nearby harbor. Slamming hard on the brakes, Korra remembered why it was that she hated cars: she could barely drive. It wasn't that she was necessarily bad at driving, but she was trained for riding Naga, and having a mechanical beast that needs full physical input required too much concentration for her liking.

The sun glistened off of the dark blue water, casting its endless streams of light into the great beyond. The air was still, silent, as if all noise had been sucked out of the atmosphere in order to grant the scenery perfect harmony. Korra looked on at the factory building; it was big and brash, massive steel doors blocking its entrance, smoke towers funneling up into the clouds and a distinctive clanging and crashing that sounded foreign to Korra's ears. She took a deep breath of fresh air, put on a smile, and opened the door.

"Watch out!"

Korra dove to the ground as something, or someone, flew past her in a blur. It took her a moment to recover, and in that moment she spotted the forms of two mad engineers huddling together, strapped to some large, winged contraption that she found both amusing and terrifying. The sputtering machine slammed into the ground with a crash as Korra stood up, wincing as various pieces of metal flied in any and all directions.

"Darn it! I knew the extra turbine would displace the center of gravity. Whose bright idea was it to put that thing on it anyway?"

"Yours, darling."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that it was a horrible idea?"

Iknik Blackstone Varrick and Zhu Li Moon rose from the wreckage, mostly unscathed. The co-owners of Varrick Global Industries looked down upon the pummeled mass of metal with shame, showing almost no sign of shock from nearly being killed upon impact. Zhu Li only glanced over Varrick, quickly searching her lover for any signs of serious injury. Korra was unsure whether to feel pleased or sick to her stomach. Seeing Varrick at any time made Korra feel uneasy. Even after all of the years she had known him, his extravagant ways and lurking deceit about the slightest things made her highly uncomfortable. Zhu Li, she could tolerate, as the woman barely said anything except to keep her husband in line, an act that no one could complain about. Still, it did not make Korra feel any better, as she was supposed to be having a special meeting with Asami, and anytime Varrick was around, he would interject whenever it was worst to do so.

"What the heck was that?" Korra felt the need to ask.

"That was supposed to be our gateway to millions," Varrick responded arrogantly. The room they were in was full of hanging plane parts and chains and various walkways, leading to an upstairs office. However, the high chamber was filling up with a light smoke from the broken machine.

Korra looked quizzically at the hunk of scrap behind the inventors. "That flying death-machine is supposed to be your next big thing? You do know Airbenders already have wingsuits… and less dangerous ones than that."

"No, no, no—not the wingsuit," Varrick growled, furious that the weaker mind could not comprehend his brilliance. "This little beauty is going to revolutionize transportation as we know it."

"It's the engine that's important," Zhu Li stated. "We're testing new thrusting technology in a smaller size before ramping up production on a larger scale. If our theory is correct, we can make an engine capable of moving dozens of people at nearly five times faster than an average airship."

"Wow, that's quite an undertaking," said Korra. "Are you sure that's even possible?"

"We're testing the efficiency of the engine right now. But, we've run into some small problems—"

"The engine's fine!" Varrick insisted. "My designs are perfect. It's the proportions that are all off. It's impossible to keep the supporting chassis stable under such intense pressure from the engine. We need sturdier framework, which is something 'Miss Sato' hasn't provided us with."

Korra's heart skipped a beat, and she regained her focus on why she was there to begin with. "Speaking of Asami, she told me that I was supposed to meet her here. Is she around somewhere?"

"Asami's up in the office," Zhu Li explained. "She really only comes down to due quick maintenance, or—"

"What the heck was that!?" came an upsetting yell from above. Zhu Li sighed, and adjusted her glasses.

"—or when she needs to scream at us."

Korra spun around to face the noise from above. From the office above, a woman burst out and hung thrust herself against the railing. Her raven hair, light and fluffy, cascaded down her shoulders in a tangled, unkempt wad. Her pale features were caked with streaks of oil and ash, her muddy, maroon, ragged work uniform covered with the same. Her blood red lips were dragged up her face in an ugly scowl, and the translucent green pools of her eyes struck down with such confusion and agitation and guilt and loss that even when studied under the most incandescent and accepting of conditions, her fury would be unmistakable.

"Varrick," she said, her hands gripping the steel bar as if it was her ball and chain and she was a rabid animal waiting to lash out. "Did you just break our only prototype... again?"

Korra gulped nervously, Zhu Li shook her head in shame, and Varrick stomped his foot.

"Hey, it's not our fault you gave us a faulty wingsuit!" he retorted, accepting none of the blame.

Asami's brow furrowed. "I told you not to run any more tests on the thing until after the deal was over. It took me a month in order to perfect that wingsuit, and you just had to go and tamper with everything, like always."

"It wouldn't need tampering if your construction work wasn't so shoddy," Varrick stepped forward, shaking his fist. "If I need to fix your screwed-up framework, then I'm going to fix your screwed-up framework." He paused, looked away, and muttered under his breath, "Besides, it needed an extra kick for style."

Asami tightened her grip to such a degree that the metal nearly bent under her fingers. Her ability to speak coherently deserted her. "Why you… I can't believe… stupid little, incompetent piece of sh—"

Korra hurriedly shoved her way in front of Varrick, holding up her arms in peace. She loved her girlfriend; she truly did. The only consistent problem she had about Asami Sato was her over-commitment to her work, and on occasion, that included her rage whenever something went terribly, horribly wrong.

"Hey, can you calm down with the language?" Korra asked with an innocent, child-like smile. "I'm too young to be hearing things like this."

At once, the tension in Asami's face vanished replaced with the faintest hint of embarrassment. She moved across the walkway at a brisk pace, wiping the sweat and gook from her face. Of all the times she had failed to make herself presentable, it was now that Korra happened to barge in. Asami continued her steady breathing as she descended a flight of stairs, hoping that she did not look like as much of a disaster as she thought. Even though, that concept was ridiculous anyway; she doubted Korra cared about what she looked like, or at least, that was what she hoped.

The moment Asami's feet touched the floor, her motions became automatic, as she found herself practically running to the girl from the Water Tribe and pulling her into a tight hug. The gentle flow of Korra's breath on her neck slowed her heartrate, and she squeezed the Avatar's waist a bit tighter.

"It's really good to see you again," Asami said softly into her companion's ear. "I was planning on making things, you know, more romantic, but time got away from me. Things were running behind schedule, and technical problems kept popping up, and—"

"Don't worry about it," said the shorter woman, delivering a secret peck to the lobe of Asami's ear. "It's good to see you too."

If she could have remained in that embrace for eternity, Korra felt like she would have been satisfied with her life. Unfortunately, the two of them were not alone, and as much as Korra wanted to be with Asami at that moment, she had to keep her emotions in check. She made the hug last as long as she could manage, but after twenty seconds of sheer bliss, she painfully, remorsefully, mournfully released her hold on her girlfriend, feeling their shared warmth fade.

"So, this is what you wanted to show me?" asked the blue-eyed woman, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have to say, I didn't think you'd be so hyped up over air travel."

"What are you—oh no, this isn't why you're here," Asami corrected her. "Future Industries and Varrick Global Industries have entered a joint business venture to recapitalize on the transportation industry. After last year's disaster with magnetic lighting units, we need a boost in sales."

Korra nodded understandingly. If there was one thing that Asami care for more than her friends, it was her company. She remembered comforting Asami for an entire week after those faulty products shipped and nearly tanked the entire company. It was a massive hassle for both of them: Asami, because she had to deal with the lingering guilt of laying off nearly one hundred honest men, and Korra, because she had to make sure her girlfriend ate and slept and didn't work herself to death.

"If you wanted a boost in sales, you wouldn't build so poorly," Varrick said snidely. Asami opened her mouth to scream at him, but she was cut off.

"Darling, perhaps we shouldn't get emotional right now," Zhu Li calmly suggested. As always, her face was plain and expressionless. "We can rebuild it tomorrow. There's still plenty of time to get things worked out. Why don't we all take a break for now and regroup with clearer heads?"

"Yes, let's do that!" Korra agreed, tugging on Asami's arm. "Let's do something that doesn't involve anyone getting maimed."

Asami never stopped glaring at Varrick. "That's fine with me. Come up to my office. There's a passion project of mine that I wanted you to see."

By the time Korra was able to get Asami in motion, the moon had risen in the tranquil, black sky. It's soft luminescence cast through a large skylight above, painting the chamber a mellow blue. Korra followed the taller woman up several steps, around a bend, across a catwalk, and into the hanging office.

Unlike the rest of the workshop, the small office was relatively well lit. There was nothing much to it, but Asami liked it that way. She had barely any possessions that she needed with her on the off-chance that she would eventually need to work here. The actual manager of the building usually stayed downstairs to watch over his subordinates, leaving this one private room as her sole safe haven. Unlike the metal she often found below, it was gentle in the office, accepting even. Serenity, whenever it came over her, struck like lightning in the rain.

As it was now, the only material objects in the room were a solitary desk, three framed photographs of friends and family, and a silver, cylindrical machine only the size of Korra's hand. Asami walked over to the desk, smiling at the peace and quiet. Korra thought for a moment that she was about to tackle her, and that the passion project was really just an excuse made so they could make out against a rusted, dimly-lit metal wall. Instead, Asami picked up the small machine and gently tossed it the Avatar's way.

"Take a look at that," she instructed. Korra looked all over the tube, but saw nothing of particular interest, at least none that she understood. Then again, she was not a mechanic, and any time she would attempt to state something semi-factual about technology, she would always be kindly corrected.

"You know I have no idea what this is," Korra said knowingly. "Is this going to blow me up or something? Are you trying to take revenge for that time in Ba Sing Se last year? Because I already told you, I didn't know that the sweater would fall apart in the rain like that."

"No. I'm getting payback for that some other time," Asami teased, beckoning the shorter girl over to the desk. Korra handed the device over, and Asami rested it on the table. As the two women hunched over the wooden surface, the engineer flicked a small tab on the side of the cylinder.

And then, something brilliant happened. Korra watched in astonishment as the top of the machine flipped open, and into the open air burst dozens of delicate, beautiful, intricate, precious, bronze spheres of warmth and light. The particles swirled above her head in a swelling ritual of beauty, revolving around one another like a million dancing fireflies. The balls of light filled the room in their soft orange glow, and drawn in by their exquisiteness, Korra reached out to one, watching it float away and up to the ceiling before she could grasp it.

"I call them, 'Phosphorescent Particles'," said Asami, her gentle voice reaching Korra through the wonderment. "They're essentially atoms of lights that have been irradiated and enlarged thousands of times their size. Try to think of them a bit like tiny suns. It's only a prototype, and I can't get them to stabilize for more than a few hours, but I have to admit: it's really cool to look at."

Korra stared open-mouthed at the tiny suns before her. She didn't know why, but standing there, her best friend at her side, all alone with nothing else except the wondrous light caused by dozens of blazing spheres, she felt at ease, as if there was not a single negative thought in the world.

"This… this is amazing," was all that she could say. Asami blushed, and brushed the black hair out of her face.

"It's really not that big of a deal," she said shyly. "I mean, it's not even a major Future Industries production. I just kind of threw it together."

"What are you talking about?" Korra asked, turning to Asami as if she was a goddess pretending to be a mouse. "This is incredible. You're incredible. I don't even know what to say, or how this works, but you are just… perfect. You are perfect."

Asami stood in silence. She felt a tingling sensation run up her spine and through her heart. She opened her mouth to return the compliment. How could she not? The Avatar, the most powerful being in the world, just called her perfect. Yet, as she gazed over at her lover, the woman with bright blue eyes had already turned back to the lights, watching them in a rare calmness. Blissfully, Asami turned towards the lights as well. Perhaps it was better to say nothing at all.

The two stood next to each other for what seemed like an eternity, no one wanting to disrupt the glorious display. However, as a curious twinge came to Korra's mind, she forced her eyes away from the lights.

"So, what are you planning to do with this anyway?" she asked inquisitively. "Are you going to mass-produce them? Sell them as lighting fixtures? An entertainment source?"

Suddenly, the joy from Asami's face vanished, replaced with an expression that carried shock and painful embarrassment. The CEO of Future Industries let out a nervous laugh, and looked awkwardly at the desk.

"Oh… about that," she said slowly. "You see, the thing is… earlier, when I, uh, said that this was a… well, 'passion project'… I sort of meant that the passion was… supposed to be… you."

Asami looked back at Korra, smiling cautiously.

"Happy birthday."

Happy birthday. Those two selective words meant more to Korra than anyone would have realized. Fourteen days ago, Korra turned twenty-five years old. The knowledge of her age hit her like a ton of bricks. That day marked her being alive for a quarter of a century, and it both thrilled and frightened her. She had done so much in her brief existence, so much good to the world, and yet, even with all of the good she had done, all of the people she helped save, she couldn't help but feel that time was slipping away. She was no longer a brash teenager keen on seeing the world. She was an adult, an adult who had been through more conflict in a few years than most people did in their lives. Her birthday represented a celebration of all that she had done, but also a reminder of all that she had lost along that way. All Korra wanted on her birthday was to forget about everything, have fun, relax, enjoy what precious things she had.

And of course, the most precious thing she had was several hundred miles away, so caught up in her work that she barely got to call and give her wishes before the clock struck midnight.

Korra felt something moist in her eye. She quickly brushed it away, hoping that it would go unnoticed. It wasn't.

"I… I thought I told you not to get me anything," Korra stated, trying her best and filing to sound upset.

"Korra, I've known you for eight years," Asami said with a smirk. "When you say that you don't want something, it means that you want it more than anything else."

Korra smiled knowingly. She placed her hand on top of Asami's, squeezing it gently in her palm. Even when covered in grime and sweat, it fit perfectly in her grasp. "Is that true? In that case, I hate you. I really, really hate you."

"Wow, you were quick to jump in on that one," Asami teased. "Now I have to say something cheesy to top that."

"I don't think that's possible. I'm the Avatar. Everything I do is perfect."

"Except knowing how to shop in Ba Sing Se."

"Ugh, you're the worst!" Korra sighed, wrapping her arms around the fair-skinned girl. She placed a delicate series of kisses on the nape of her neck, and tightly gripped the rough fabric of her clothing. "Seriously though, thanks for the gift. It… it really means a lot to me."

"No problem. I'm sure you'd do the exact same thing."

Korra moaned in agreement. "You know, now that you're finally back in the city, and maybe if you aren't going to be doing too much work, we could get around to announcing… us."

A groan escaped Asami's lips. It seemed like every time they talked, Korra brought up the same uncomfortable topic. "I don't think now's a good time. My work is pretty hectic."

"Your work has been hectic for four years," Korra reminded her. "This is starting to get ridiculous. I want to actually be with you in public without having to awkwardly refrain from touching you. I'm actually beginning to think that you're ashamed of me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I could never be ashamed of you. It's just that… with all of the publicity and negative press and focus on it, it's better to keep it on the backburner for now, just until I get out of this financial crisis."

Korra frowned. "Okay, I guess. I just hope that you'll keep to your promise. We can't keep this hidden from the public forever."

Asami sighed lovingly, and pressed her forehead against Korra's, her green eyes staring deep into the Avatar's blue ones. Instantly, a sly smile retuned to Korra's somber face, and Asami looked at her seductively. "Look, let's not think about that tonight. Instead, let's think about you and me, late at night, downtown, bright lights, drinks, and the comfy backseat of my car."

"Mmm," Korra agreed, feeling the tension spike in the room. "I like the way you think, Miss Sato."

Their senses were hazy as the drew themselves inwards, and invisible force pushing their lips closer, their hands tighter on each other's body, their spirits and hearts as one.

And then, in the span of a second, the force disappeared as the door to the office burst open, and Varrick burst into the room with his arm thrust in the air as if ready to charge into war. The women quickly shoved themselves apart before the inventor had a chance to realize what was happening. Their faces were hot and red, burning like the dozens of micro suns illuminating the room.

"Sato, work's done for today," said Varrick, Zhu Li standing behind him with her head in her hands. "You and I are headed out for wild Republic City salmon to work out our plans for the next few days, and maybe if we're lucky, you can apologize for messing up the prototype."

Zhu Li cleared her throat.

"Or, maybe I can apologize or whatever," he added. "It doesn't matter! We're feasting now. Get your keister in gear and let's head out."

Asami wanted to say a great many things at that moment, but found it most wise to take a deep breath, collect her thoughts, and sigh accordingly.

"I guess that's what we're going to do then," she said with the slightest bit of contempt. She looked at Korra apologetically, but she was already receiving an understanding nod.

"Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?" Korra suggested.

"Sure. I can stop by at around eight." With the meeting in place, Asami sorrowfully followed a clueless Varrick out of the office, and a deeply mortified Zhu Li closed the door behind them.

Just like that, Korra was alone with her thoughts again. Per usual, her meeting Asami was filled with electric highs and crushing disappointments. On the bright side, she got to actually see her, something that was become more and more of a rarity each passing month, and on top of that, she got a pretty spectacular birthday present. On the flip side, she was cut off by uninvited guests, and Asami continued to dodge that question. Korra could hardly blame her though. Ever since they began dating, the exact question of who they would tell about their relationship was a major issue, as they both realized that announcing the head of Future Industries was currently dating the Avatar would shift the public's view of them in any number of ways, all of them most likely leading to a basic invasion of privacy for the power couple. There were only a few people on the planet that they trusted with their relationship, and out of those twenty or so individuals, Varrick was not one any of them felt capable of entrusting secrets to.

Suddenly, the door opened back up, and Zhu Li's head popped into view.

"My husband wasn't interrupting anything, was he?" she asked, concerned.

"Well, actually—"

"Dammit," cursed the former assistant. "I'm going to have a long talk with him about barging in on people. Sorry about everything he does, and about dinner too. I hope you and Asami have a lovely time tomorrow."

With that, Zhu Li was gone, leaving Korra alone once again in the room with dozens of dancing sons. She couldn't help but smile at the loyal wife's kind remarks.

Varrick was not trustworthy in the slightest. Zhu Li, on the other hand, was very trustworthy.

* * *

The banker stood behind his desk in fear, sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. How could it have happened like this? It was going to be a wonderful day, for he had just learned of his wife's pregnancy that morning. He may have been plump and nearing fifty, but he never had a child before. It was an absolute miracle that his wife chose him ever everyone else.

Unfortunately, the beautiful life he sought to have was no at risk, as a knife was pressed against his thick neck.

"Can you just stop blubbering already?" asked the gang member with the crooked hat. "When I tell you to get the money, I expect you to give me the damn money."

"Yes, of course," replied the banker nervously. What were the odds that the bank would be robbed today? What made this day so special? What suddenly inspired three men of the Triple Threat Triads to burst into upper class territory and hold up an empty bank in the middle of the afternoon?

The banker, feeling the cool steel against his jugular, ultimately decided that the reasoning wasn't all that important if he died then and there. The vault was only several yards behind him, an iron gateway to over one million yuans. The banker's eyes dashed between the three men. The one holding a knife to his throat had a slack jaw, squinted eyes, and a dirty face. Another man with wavy hair and a thick, blue coat was propped up against a wall, meddling with a ball of water hovering just above his palm. A third, with a scraggily beard and sunken eyes, was keeping an eye on the doorway.

"You'll let me go once you get the money, won't you?" the banker asked, his voice quivering.

"I'll think about it," responded the Triad member. "Now hurry up. We're wasting daylight."

"No sign of trouble yet," said the man by the door. "It doesn't look like anyone called the cops."

"Good, let's keep it like that. Now, get the money, you old geezer."

"R-right away." The banker shuffled backwards, afraid that at any moment, they could change their minds and cut his throat like paper. His shaking hands grabbed the vault, and began rotating in a very specific pattern. His gaze shifted to the left, where two security guards had been knocked unconscious by a surprise attack. He wished he could have been like them: asleep. If only he could be away from the troubles of the world. If only he could go back home and see his wife again.

Then suddenly, from outside, in the heat of the afternoon, came the slamming of car doors, and the heavy stomping of feet in motion.

"Uh, Lee… we've got a problem," said the man by the door with wide eyes. Before Lee, the man with the cap, could ask what was going on, there came a screeching sound of a megaphone, and a collected voice vibrate through the air.

"This is the police. We have you surrounded. Release the hostages and surrender, and no harm will come to you."

Outside of the bank were four cops and two vehicles. While three of the policemen followed procedure, scanning for signs of duress, one particularly young cop—with a round jaw, short greasy hair, and large hazel eyes—huddled behind the car for protection, earning the ire of the young man standing next to him.

"Chen, what are you doing?" asked Police Detective Mako to his compatriot.

"What? I'm taking cover in case of an emergency," said the young cop, trying to put on a smile.

"Chen, nothing is happening yet," Mako scolded. "Cops can't show their fear to criminals. How are you supposed to earn respect like that?"

"When you put it that way, you make it sound like I'm a coward."

Chen, of course, knew he was a coward, but that didn't change the fact that he did not want to be called one. Chen was an honest, well-nurtured man eighteen years of age. Ever since he was young, he aspired to be part of the Republic City Police. Unfortunately for him, he never really had the necessary athletic capabilities required. He could metalbend, but wasn't proficient at it. He was somewhat knowledgeable, but wasn't anything special. He was well-motivated, but it was often misplaced towards food or pro-bending. He was admitted into the force due to his tenacity, but was given one condition; he had to be placed under the tutelage of one of the police's finest.

That, naturally, brought him to Mako, one of Chief Beifong's most trusted officers. When Mako was first instructed that he would receive a protégé last winter, he was very excited about it. He told all of his friends that he was going to serve as an inspiration and supervisor to a fresh, young mind. In fact, he never stopped talking about it, and in the two weeks leading up to his meeting of the student, he was actually happy. He was so happy that Korra once told him that he had completely lost his mind when he wouldn't stop smiling for an entire evening. The idea that Mako would help better someone's life—someone that had to be, at least, more tolerable than Wu—was very fulfilling.

Then, Mako met Chen, and basically everything went downhill from there. It wasn't that Mako hated his partner; far from it. It had simply been nearly eight months, and Chen's cluelessness and lack of progress was starting to become irritable.

As they were standing behind police cars on this cool summer day, Mako once again finding himself teaching in a place he shouldn't have been. It was not his intention to let Chen get involved with serious threats until the latter was much better prepared, but since they were one of the only squads in the area, they had to take the call.

"Chen, do you know hostage protocol?" Mako asked expectantly.

"Um…" Chen struggled to remember. "It's: secure every possible escape route. Isn't it?"

"Establish a line of communication," Mako begrudgingly corrected him. "We need to get talks going in order to make sure everyone remains calm and unharmed. Otherwise, the situation could get violent."

In a flash, Mako's face was stricken with panic, and he ducked behind the shelter of the car was a boulder sailed over his head and crashed into the concrete behind him.

"Or, we could just get right to exciting part."

One of the members of the Triad had burst through the door, and growled angrily. "I'm not going back to prison! I've got to get out of here!"

Without hesitating even a moment, the robber stomped the ground, sending more chunks of rocks flying in the directions of the police. The other cops—Officer Xiao and Officer Pomi—dove to the ground. Mako, however, adrenaline pumping through his blood, slid over the hood of his car, and blasted fire at the criminal. The earthbender dodged, but Mako managed to grab onto him, flipping him on his back.

Chen peered out behind cover, and seeing Mako victorious, he cheered. "Yeah! Take that criminal down!"

"Stay down, Chen," Mako ordered. "It's too—ugh!"

Mako was caught off-guard by a water blast to the stomach, causing him to double over. The other two crooks burst out of the bank, leaving the worried banker on his knees and shaking. The waterbender turned left, sprinting past the other officers, who began giving chase. However, the man with the crooked cap kept straight, leading him right back to the hunched-over Mako.

Yet, it was Chen who attacked first. He leapt out of cover, screaming like a warrior, recalling his training with his supervisor in order to vanquish his foe. Unfortunately, his sneak attack was unsuccessful; the crook simply sidestepped and tripped him the moment he got close.

"Stupid kid," the crook muttered under his breath, preparing to run. But then, before he could make his move, Mako tackled him from behind, pinning his arms against his back.

"Guys, I got mine!" he called to his fellow officers. As much as the Triad member struggled to free himself, he could not escape. Mako peered to his left. Off in the distance, he could make out faint shadows waving at him; the other man had been caught, brought down by the combined efforts of the officers' earthbending.

"You're under arrest," Mako said taking a deep breath to sooth his wounded stomach. "Chen, grab me the cuffs."

As the protégé hobbled his way back to the car, the plump banker emerged, waving a handkerchief in the air.

"Oh thank you, thank you!' cried the banker. "You saved my life!"

"It's no problem, sir," Mako assured him with a small smile. Chen returned, panting as he handed over the cuffs. Mako gave him a glare as he took the metal objects, signifying that something was upsetting him. More than likely, that would be Chen.

"How can I ever repay you? There must be some way I can show my gratitude."

"Staying safe would be pretty nice," Mako informed him. He secured the crook, who was sneering back at him. The robber's eyes were full of hate, and much to Mako's surprise, some fear as well. Chen escorted the criminal back to the car. The other two Triad members were being taken care of by Officers Xiao and Pomi.

"Maybe I can treat you to lunch," suggested the banker, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He spoke with such innocence that Mako almost felt bad for having to turn him down.

"Don't worry about it," he said, walking back to his vehicle. "Go back home to your family. Enjoy the evening."

"Oh I will, Mr. Policeman! I most definitely will!"

Mako entered the car with a jittering Chen and an upset gangster. With the crook properly secured, Mako began the drive back to police headquarters.

"That was so cool!" Chen said eagerly. "You were like a superhero out there."

"That's not important," Mako stated emotionlessly. "What's important is that a man's life was saved today."

"Obviously, that's important as well. But come on, Mako. You know you looked pretty slick out there. You can brag about it to me. I don't mind."

"No one's bragging about anything. How about instead, we talk about your performance?"

"I'd rather we didn't."

"You can't dodge this. Now, what's the first thing you did wrong?"

Chen groaned. This was something he had grown accustomed to: Mako complaining. It seemed like all he ever did was get yelled at by the senior officer. All he really wanted was a simple compliment, a thank-you, a solitary "good job". Given all that he had seen, Chen seriously began to doubt how Mako sustained a stable relationship with anybody.

"Was it hiding behind a car?"

"It was not listening to my orders," Mako reprimanded him. "Following the orders of your senior officer is one of the most important parts of the job. I told you to stay low, and you put yourself in harm's way regardless."

"Well, it's hard to think straight when you give such confusing instructions," Chen argued. "First you told me to not to hide behind the car, and then you scold me for not hiding behind the car! Make up your mind already."

"It's situational," Mako explained. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't get hurt. I'm your supervisor. I care about you, bro."

"Hey, can I interject for a moment?" asked the criminal with the crooked cap. "It looks like you both need to learn to listen to each other more. Mutual respect is very important."

"You don't get to talk," Mako said irritably. "What were you even doing in this part of the city anyway? This isn't Triad territory. Were you trying to move up in the criminal underworld?"

"No, I'm really innocent, I swear," the crook insisted. "See, I got this weird letter the other day saying that I had to rob this bank, or my entire family will be killed. I really had no other choice. In fact, I could be hunted for right as we speak."

"Wow, that's terrible," Chen said, feeling empathy for the thug. "I hope your family is alright."

Mako shook his head in shame. "He's lying. Don't believe everything you hear. That's another important rule of being a cop."

"You know," said the criminal. "I'm starting to take the kid's side on this one. I don't know how anyone could get along with you when you have that attitude, pal."

The rest of the ride to the headquarters was kept in silence, primarily because Mako felt no need to continue talking. It was tiring work. The strain on his mind grew little-by-little every day, and he was in need of rest. He had been on active duty for the past four years, and a day never went by where something life-threatening didn't happen. Still, he couldn't find the strength to take time off. He loved his job almost as much as his brother. He only wished that it took less effort.

It was noon when they finally rolled up to the station, the companion car pulling in behind them. Mako escorted the man with the crooked hat out of the car, and guided him into the building. Immediately, they were passed by two laughing metalbenders, and Chen inched closer to his partner.

"Man, I really hate those elitists," he muttered under his breath.

"They can probably hear you, you know," Mako reminded him. They turned the corner and entered an elevator.

"Anyone interested in going to the big game tonight? I've got an extra pair of tickets," Officer Xiao asked curiously, the doors closing the seven men in the cramped, metal box.

"Can't. It's my son's birthday," Officer Pomi said, disappointed.

"How old is he now?" Chen asked.

"Turning ten. They grow old so fast."

"Aw… that's adorable," cooed Chen, his big eyes welling up with tears. Mako rolled his eyes in embarrassment. When the elevator doors opened up, the officers hurried out of the tight space and into the next office. Luckily, Chief Beifong was already waiting for them, occupying her time by slamming her fist on a co-workers desk and spitting such harsh words at him that he nearly burst into tears.

"Chief, we've got some prisoners here that you might be interested in," Mako said, stepping forward to his irate boss.

"Why are you bothering to bring them up here?" Lin snapped at him. "They should go right to the holding cells."

"If it's anything to you, I'd like to request for their interrogation. They were robbing a bank far outside of Triad territory, and there's just something off-putting about the whole thing."

Lin ushered the detective away. "Fine, do it. I'm a bit busy at the moment."

Mako, feeling both proud that he got a request granted and pitiful towards the thin, weak soul that Line was tormenting, turned back to his group.

"Get them prepped," he instructed simply. "Chen, you learn what these guys are doing. It may help you out in the future."

Chen gave a stern salute, and followed the men back into the elevator. As it descended, a sudden thought popped back into Lin's mind.

"Oh Mako, you have a visitor," she said with a shrug.

"A visitor?" Mako asked suspiciously. "Who would come to—"

"Mako!"

A small frame quickly ran to Mako at full speed and latched on to him, causing home to teeter and nearly fall. He was only barely able to catch himself on the frame of a nearby desk, and then he still had the extra weight to support. As Mako stumbled and winced, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the creature that gripped him tightly.

Attached to Mako was a small girl, smaller than she had any right to be. Her skin was unusually pale and creamy, and her frame was almost sickly thin. Her clothes were pristine, properly ironed and buttoned in all of the proper places. She had a loving, happy smile, a button nose and two ever-curious grey eyes. Her hair was an anomaly, flowing across her shoulders and back in pure, unnatural white. She giggled happily as she hugged onto Mako's muscular frame. Mako, on the other hand, was trying his best to hide his horror.

Her name was Sy. She was Mako's girlfriend.

Sy was nineteen years old, but radiated with youth. She had no last name, and technically, she had no first name either, as "Sy" wasn't her real name, but merely an identity she constructed for herself because her real name "sucked". She was known by all of his acquaintances to be a bit overbearing and subject to the occasional sudden mood change, which led to him not showing her around to many acquaintances. On the only occasion in which she was introduced to the Avatar, she proceeded to talk about the great deeds of the bridge between two worlds for forty-five minutes before casually (and completely accidentally) insulting her hairstyle, after which Korra confided in Mako that he had terrible taste in women. As it stood, there was no real reason for Mako to be dating Sy, yet like his profession; he couldn't bear to leave her. In the past four years, the firebender had gone through eight relationships, most of which lasted for only a few weeks before the unfortunate woman broke up with him. However, he had been with Sy for almost five months, which to him meant only one thing: she was a keeper.

"Sy, you really aren't supposed to be here," Mako said nervously, feeling his ribs being crushed beneath his girlfriend's hug.

"I know you said that, but you've been gone all day," Sy explained. "I just wanted to spend time with my big, strong, cop boyfriend."

"Yes, but we can do that when I'm not working," Mako said, removing the arms from his chest. Sy simply stared at him in curiosity.

"So… why don't you have a picture of me on your desk?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wh-what?" Mako said, perplexed by her sudden change of emotion. "I had to make room for my paperwork. Also, you take all copies of our photos together."

"Oh yeah, I guess that's kind of true," Sy reasoned with herself. "So, do you know why I'm here?"

"I thought you were here to see me?"

"That's partly true, but there's something else I want to tell you," Sy stated, clasping her hands behind her back. Her button nose twitched as she smiled confidently. "Guess where I got us reservations to two days from now?"

Mako had no idea, but being a semi-wise boyfriend, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Is it… that place you were excited to go to?"

Sy thrust her hands in the air. "Yes, it is!" she cheered enthusiastically. "It's the fanciest restaurant in Republic City: Kwong's Cuisine! Do you know how they treat their guests there?"

"Actually, I've been there before," Mako admitted. How could he forget Kwong's Cuisine? The upscale eatery, aside from being the most high-class restaurant in the city, was the location of his first date with Asami, another failed relationship that he didn't want to remember.

"And then, maybe afterwards," Sy suggested cautiously. "We can go back to my house, and you can… finally meet my pare—"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mako said quickly. "I know you think this will be some kind of fairy tale meeting, I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't be my biggest fans."

"Oh, you don't know that! It's not like they'd hate you the second they saw you."

Sy paused for a moment, and reflected deeply about what she had just said.

"Okay, maybe my dad would hate you, but my mom would be pretty much fine."

Before Mako could restate his opinion, Lin suddenly stepped between the couple, and forcefully shoved them apart.

"You two can work out your relationship drama somewhere else," she said sternly. "Mako, I need you out on a noise complaint call from the Winged-Lion District."

"A… noise complaint call? Chief, I'm not sure if something that simple really requires my attention."

"Trust me: this one does," Lin reaffirmed, her face serious and strict. In an instant, Mako knew that she wasn't messing around. If the job required sending a detective, that could only mean one thing:

Whatever it was, it must have been pretty noisy.

* * *

The Winged-Lion District was home to some of the most elite patrons of Republic City. It was located far away from the rest of the dire populace, up atop a mountain where the wealthy could both figuratively and literally look down on others. As Mako drove alone up the vacant streets, he wondered what his purpose of being there was. There were almost no crimes whatsoever in the rich districts, and even if there were, they would probably be so minor that police investigation would not be necessary.

But why a noise complaint?

Mako looked out at the fancy estates that he passed along the way. One home owned by a single wealthy entrepreneur could fit his entire extended family with plenty of room to spare. These mansions were usually owned by the senior, experienced business person, and these people tended to live quiet lives.

So why a noise complaint?

Mako pulled up to the marked address. He identified it as some sort of luxurious condominium, but having no experience on the subject, he could not say for certain. The surrounding neighborhood was deadly still. As he exited the car and walked to the building, he felt very uneasy. There was something dreadful about the district that he just couldn't identify, but he felt like something horrible was waiting to happen. He walked to a bright green door, and knocked thrice. An old, grouchy woman, dressed solely in a robe, opened the door, and shook her fist.

"What do you want?" she sneered.

"Uh," Mako stammered. "I got a report about a noise complaint. Would you know anything about that?"

"Ah, the damn noise!" the woman cried. She pointed up at her ceiling. "Ever since this morning, Kuzo's been playing that horrid opera music nonstop. He won't turn it down or anything. He doesn't even like opera music, so why does he keep playing it!?"

"Hmm… he doesn't like opera music," Mako thought aloud. He looked up at the balcony above his head. Above that was the room in question. As soon as his eyes left her, the senile woman slammed the door in his face, leaving him without a word. Curiously, he began to investigate. He walked around the condo until he found a stairwell. The sun was blinding him as he ascended, marching on the white stone until he reached the second floor. He carefully made his way to the room of Kuzo, whoever that happened to be.

As he approached the door, the sound of opera music filled his ears. A woman was singing a beautiful solo, her voice rising and falling like the tides, growing and fading, becoming an ever-shifting beautiful life all on its own.

Mako knocked on the door twice.

"Mr. Kuzo?" he called. "This is the police. We've got a complaint about too much noise coming from this apartment. Can you come to the door?"

The opera music continued. There were no footsteps. Mako knocked again.

"Mr. Kuzo? Open the door. This is the police. We've received a complaint about the volume of the music."

There was no response. Mako knocked again.

"Please, Mr. Kuzo, open up."

When there was still no response, Mako reached for the knob. It gave way, and the door creaked open, revealing darkness within the room.

Something wasn't right.

Mako slowly opened the door, hearing the loud groaning of the wood sliding open. It was pitch black inside of the apartment. Mako called out again.

"Hello? Mr. Kuzo, are you there?"

When no answer came, he fumbled for the light switch. He flicked it on, and the room came to life. There was nothing very fancy present. There was only a couch, a few chairs, and a radio, which played a beautiful serenade. Mako stepped forward into the apartment. There didn't seem to be any problems.

Yet, Mako knew: something unnatural was in the air.

He continued calling out, walking around the apartment in search for clues. The woman in the opera reached her grand solo. Her voice dipped and rose, ascending incredible valleys and plunging into the depths of the ocean. Mako came to the bedroom door, and curiously opened it.

Once he looked inside, he froze.

Kuzo, an elderly man with grey hair, a gentle face and round belly, was sprawled across his bed—limbs stretched in every direction, eyes rolled up in the back of his head—with multiple incisions made across his fatty stomach, and a slashed throat that was oozing blood. His sheets and bedding were dyed red, and his guts were splayed out over his torso in a gruesome work of art.

Mako's eyes wandered to the wall above Kuzo's decrepit body. Someone had written on the wall in red fluid. The character was something Mako easily recognized:

_Greedy._

As Mako stood in silence, unable to look away, the opera woman finished her tremendous solo, her falsetto voice hitting the final note in a last, glorious crescendo.


	3. When the Clock Strikes Nine

**Note: This story is retroactively being updated and condensed to fix pacing issues. As such, the following chapter contains what used to be the original fourth and fifth chapters; other slight changes and adjustments have been made to the text to bring it within context of later chapters.**

* * *

Balance. Control. Peace.

The three were the three central concepts that Korra focused on. She refused to let her mind wander from these ideals as she sat near the water on Air Temple Island. She was alone, and the solitude granted her a state of tranquility that she found lacking elsewhere.

Initially, Korra hated meditation. It was slow, boring, cumbersome, tedious, and seemed to require such little effort that there was almost no point in doing it at all. But, once she learned to listen, concentrate, she found that she could experience a connection to the world that she never could have dreamed of. When she was focused, she could feel the gentle tide being pushed and pulled by the gravity of the moon. She could feel the surging of rock beneath her. She could feel the wind and its course throughout the sky. She could feel the movements and heartbeats of everyone in the city. To Korra, it felt like being part of nature, and strangely enough, it was soothing to her.

Sadly, it was when she was at balance, control, and peace when she was interrupted by Kai, who rudely stomped over the ground and disrupted the entire environment around him.

"Tenzin wants to see you," the crude, seventeen year-old informed her. She groaned audibly, and opened her eyes to gaze at the serene bay before her.

"You know I'm busy," Korra stated bitterly. "Everyone knows I'm busy."

"He said to come get you. It's not my fault that he insisted on doing it now."

"Well, tell him to wait. I need a clear head right now."

"He said it's urgent," Kai stated firmly. The youthful boy that Korra once known had grown into a fairly capable young man, although based on what Korra knew about boys, it probably meant that he became less mature as time went on.

"Tenzin of all people knows how important it is to meditate," said Korra. "The only reason he'd interrupt me is if there's something extremely important going on. I'm pretty sure I'd notice if something extremely important was going on."

"Why are you questioning me?" Kai asked, getting frustrated. "What is it with you and never believing anything I say?"

"Because last time you told me to leave a room, I found you and Jinora in my closet," Korra said, remembering the night painfully. She had honestly expected better from the young airbenders. She understood that they were teenagers, and were probably storing lots of pent-up energy from living a monk lifestyle, but she thought that they could have at least behaved themselves less like wild animals. When she was their age, she didn't have raging romantic and sexual desires. In fact, the worst thing she did was date Mako, and that was probably about the tamest thing she could have done.

"That was, like, a year ago!" Kai cried, feeling his cheeks grow hot. "Tenzin actually needs you now. Besides, what are you doing meditating anyway? You never do these kinds of things often."

Korra sneered. The balance, control, and peace were all but gone, replaced with the horrifying image of two love-drunk kids bundled in her closet late one weekend night.

"If you have to know, I'm a bit stressed out," Korra explained carefully.

"Relationship troubles?" Kai instantly assumed.

"She's been so busy lately. We went out to breakfast yesterday, and all she could talk about was this big meeting she had to plan for. She was obsessed with it. I'm not sure if Asami's been this stressed out in years."

"Oh man, do I know that feeling," Kai sighed, plopping himself down next to Korra and crossing his legs. "Women. Always freaking out over everything."

Korra glared at him. "Uh… you do know you're talking to me, right?"

"You know what I'm saying," Kai said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. "I just mean that… well, you see… women usually—"

"Kai, shut up before you accidentally say something even more sexist."

Kai promptly said nothing.

"I know Asami is going to be fine," Korra said softly. "I mean, it's just a business meeting, and she has enough charisma to tame a wild wolf bat, but she's afraid of her company going under, which makes her afraid of letting down her family's legacy, which makes me worry about her state of mind, and it just triggers a huge, never-ending cycle of worrying over each other that just makes me want to sit here and forget all of that and be somewhat at ease so I don't chew my fingers worrying about that meeting which is going on right at this second that she could have already aced or she could have already screwed up permanently or—agh!"

Korra stood up and threw her hands in the air in defeat. "I'm going to talk to Tenzin! You've screwed up my entire mental state!"

Korra walked inland, leaving Kai alone by the blue water. He watched Korra as she went, and then shrugged, placed his hands behind his head, and lounged. He had no idea why she began speaking faster and faster, or why she suddenly decided to leave a perfectly fine—and not at all sexist—conversation. All Kai knew was that, for certain, he clearly did not understand women.

* * *

Asami was sitting in a comfortable chair in a comfortable room. The lush red walls that surrounded her felt welcoming, and the sounds of the violin played over the radio. She sat at an empty desk, waiting to meet the man who, if all went well, would help save Future Industries from another economic disaster. Unfortunately, Varrick sat next to her, and his insipid babble slowly driving her mad.

"So while you charm him, that's when I reach around and sucker punch the fella before he knows what's even going on!" proclaimed the mad genius.

"What are you talking about?" Asami questioned him a fifth time. "This isn't war. You're not going to sucker punch anybody."

"You know what I mean. If there's one thing for certain about Shang, it's that he has ridiculous tastes. You need to work around his head and get him to play ball our way or the highway."

"Well, that'd be easier if someone hadn't broken our demonstration two days ago."

"Hey, we have it working… mostly," Varrick explained, brushing off her hostility. "Trust me, we won't even need it all that badly if you just stick to my plan."

Asami groaned. She thought that working with Varrick would get easier over time. When they agreed to work together, they had made a pact: Varrick would stop acting like an ass, and Asami would give him creative input. She had thought, at least in her opinion, that she had successfully met that requirement. It was mostly Varrick's idea of creating a supersonic engine, and she tried not to stifle his abilities. Unfortunately, it seemed that the scoundrel from the Water Tribe had not matured as much as she had hoped. It was for this reason that Asami preferred the company of Zhu Li, who was far easier to work with in any given scenario, and who was supposed to be with them before Varrick foolishly called her off to make more repairs on the newly-developed flight suit.

All of this was to impress the industrialist known as Shang. Asami was familiar with Shang, although her knowledge of him only came recently. Shang used to be a criminal, evading taxes and committing multiple acts of fraud throughout his young adult life. In the years before the fall of the Earth Empire, however, his life had completely turned around. By amassing resources through unknown deeds, he became the head of Ingenious Enterprises, one of the most powerful shipping companies in the world. The man, now nearing his mid-thirties, was said to be an extremely unlikable human being, which only made Asami despise her life that much more.

"You know, you're insufferable," Asami stated angrily. "Seriously, it's like all you ever do is try to screw up my life."

"Hey, you came to me for help, remember," retorted Varrick. "Besides, I didn't have to help you out. I just thought we were buddies now. We saved the city together! If you don't want my help, I'll just leave now."

"No, don't actually go," Asami said, attempting to control her emotions. "Look, let's get through this damn interview, and then we can calm down and get everything back to normal. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Asami looked at Varrick suspiciously, and he looked at her with equal feeling. He did not say anything, which made it all the more peculiar for someone else to have agreed to the arrangement at the same time. The inventors turned around in their seats, noticing that the brass doors of the room had been pushed open, and a lanky figure leaned in the entryway. With a flamboyant posture that highlighted his groin and his smooth, incandescent face, Shang made his presence known with as much style as he could muster.

Asami let out a disappointed sigh. She could already tell that she would be in for a rough time.

"Varrick, I thought you married that assistant of yours," said Shang, taking long strides to his desk before kicking up his feet. "What are you doing hanging around this dame for?"

"Did you just call me a dame?" Asami asked, disgusted.

"Zhu Li's working on important business elsewhere," Varrick said, completely unfazed. "This is Asami Sato, head of Future Industries. She's the reason we're here."

Shang wore thick sunglasses despite the room being dimly lit. He lowered them to look over Asami's body, and then put them back on.

"So you're the woman who helped save Republic City from Kuvira?" he asked, remarkably unimpressed.

"If that's what matters, then yes," grunted Asami. "Mr. Shang, if we could just have a talk about—"

"Do you have any idea how much money I lost in that deal?" Shang asked. "One minute, I'm helping Kuvira manage supplies for her soldiers in a highly-solidifed contract, and the next, I'm being told that peace has arrived, and I'm out of one of the best marketing deals of my life!"

"You had a contract with Kuvira?" said Varrick. "That's impossible: I had a contract with Kuvira! I was designing new energy sources for her, which inadvertently became a super weapon. Where were you during all that time?"

Asami spoke up. "Guys, can we get to discussion or—"

"The Earth Emprie was a big place," Shang said snidely. "I was on the other side of the continent doing crucial research. The only reason you got to get in Kuvira's inner circle was because Ingenious Enterprises doesn't get personally involved with madmen, something you clearly never figured out!"

Varrick rose from his seat, shaking his fist. "Don't call me a madman! The reason I got in Kuvira's inner circle was that I deserved to be there, unlike you, who just like to sit back and watch other people do his dirty work!"

"Varrick, sit down," Asami ordered. "You're really not helping anything. What does any of this have to do with anything?"

"If I knew this scum was going behind my back all these years, I never would have trusted him with anything!"

"How could he be going behind your back if you didn't even know each other back then?" Asami asked reasonably.

"Shut up, honey," Shang said bluntly. "Let the men figure this one out. Now listen to me Varrick, you stupid son of a—whoa!"

All at once, Asami stood up, grabbed both men's collars, and pulled them in close.

"You both need to shut up," she said angrily. "I've been freaking out for months trying to get my company back at full capacity. This is the best chance I have to set things straight, and I'm not letting you two ruin it before it even begins. Varrick, you're a idiot. Shang, I've just met you and I already can't stand to be around you. Trust me, I don't want to be around you either, but if Future Industries is going to survive, I need your help. So, why don't we all just sit down, stay quiet, and get with this meeting like we're supposed to? Agreed?"

Shang smiled and snapped his fingers. "I like your tenacity, Miss Sato. Let's call it a deal."

"What? But… we haven't even showed you what we've been working on?" Asami asked feeling puzzled. She released her grasp on Shang's shirt, and he brushed out the wrinkles.

"You don't trust inventions; you trust people," Shang explained. "And I think you're a very trustworthy and hardworking person. Let's work things out the details over lunch."

"Great," said Varrick, already springing out the door. "See, Asami? I told you that all you had to do was butter him up."

Asami said nothing. She had no idea what was going on, but apparently, something good had happened. At least she could be happy about that.

* * *

When Korra entered the dining room, she was surprised to see Lin there as well. Tenzin looked stricken with grief.

"What's going on?" she asked. "You look like someone has died."

"Korra, are you familiar with a man named Kuzo?" Tenzin asked solemnly.

"I've never heard of him."

"I wouldn't expect you to," he admitted. "Kuzo was an old friend of mine. He used to be a radio broadcaster; one of the first to make audio shows popular. He was a very kind, gentle man, and he was one of the first people to welcome me and Pema to Republic City."

"He 'was' a good man? Did something happen to him?"

"We found his corpse last night," Lin stated, her voice teetering on the edge of sadness. "He was stabbed multiple times, but ended up dying from heart failure due to the strain on his body."

"That's… that's horibble," Korra said softly. She looked away from Tenzin, unable to see his pain-ridden face. Korra was not an expert on the human body, at least not the physical aspects of it. She knew the basics, like which parts went where and belonged to whom, but she couldn't decipher a liver from a kidney. Despite all of that, she did know that if a man was stabbed multiple times and did not die of blood loss, then it had to mean that the cuts were non-lethal in nature; in other words: torture.

"So, someone killed your friend?" Korra filled in the blanks. "And you want my help to find him and bring him to justice?"

"No," Tenzin said, much to Korra's surprise. "I hope justice can be arranged from these circumstances, but under no conditions should we actively seek retribution. Korra, Pema and I are leaving for Omashu in order to meet up with Kuzo's wife. We've already met with his children in the city. We want you to stay here and watch over the kids over the next week while we're away."

"What?" Korra asked, feeling stupefied. "There's a killer on the loose, and you want me to stay here and babysit? Why can't you let Jinora or one of the other airbenders do it?"

"Because I trust you to do it the most," Tenzin explained. "Kya's in the Southern Water Tribe, Bumi's in the Fire Nation, and honestly, Jinora's starting to become… negligent. Besides, you're one of the few people Rohan is willing to listen to."

"But the city needs me," Korra argued. "If there's a murderer out there someone, the Avatar should be there to bring him down."

"Don't worry about that," said Lin. "The police are taking care of it. I've already assigned Mako to the case, and as much as your help would be appreciated, it's not the Avatar's duties to stop all crime everywhere. That's our responsibility."

"Korra, don't get involved in something you shouldn't," Tenzin advised her.

Deep down, Korra knew that her mentor was only looking out for her. He had just lost a close friend, and he was trying his best to make sure that no one else got hurt. Even though she was the Avatar, and could take care of herself against any possible assailant, to him, she was still the young child tugging on his beard after meeting him for the first time.

"If you don't want me getting involved, I won't," Korra said, partially hating herself as she said it. "Just make sure that you nab the bastard, okay?"

"We're already on it," Lin smirked. "Mako's talented enough, and he's got a good team working for him. I don't think this crook will be causing any more problems from here on out."

* * *

The blood oozed slowly out of Kuzo's midsection, dripping onto the floor in miniscule puddles. Mako covered his nose; a rancid odor filled the room. The character written on the wall was spilling on the bed, yet its horrible shape remained intact. Mako tried to look away, but could not. A strange, morbid fascination drew him closer to the bulging eyes, the throbbing neck, the warm liquid. He felt the terror grow inside of him, and he saw a gentle hand reaching towards the body, meaning to caress it, and he found himself drawing in closer, and closer, and then—

"Mako, are you alright?"

Dim lights. Soft jazz music. Succulent scents. All at once, Mako resumed his place in reality. Beads of sweat drizzled down his forehead. Sy sat across from him, staring at him with a conflicted look of confusion and frustration. She wore a red dress that sparkled in the warmth of the light; he wore his nicest suit. He looked down at his plate—a delicious mixture of meat and noodles—and then looked back at his girlfriend, trying to show any emotion other than terror.

"I'm fine," he lied to her. She squinted.

"Are you sure? Because you keep… well, it's like you're blacking out on me. Something's on your mind."

"That's nonsense," he told her, tugging on his collar. "You're the only thing on my mind tonight."

"Is that so?" she asked, highly suspicious. "Then why are you sweating like that? Am I making you feel that nervous?"

"No, everything is fine," Mako repeated. Perhaps, he figured, if he kept saying that everything was fine, everything would be. Maybe his thoughts would return to normal. Maybe the images and the smells and the sounds of opera music blaring into the twilight would all fade away.

"You know, I'm feeling a bit duped," Sy stated.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just… do you have any idea how hard it was to set this date up?" explained the white-haired woman. "Seriously, the amount of variables that I had to account for is staggering. It took me weeks to get a reservation in this place, because I kept getting brushed aside because they think I'm just a kid, which I'm not. Then I had to convince my father to help me get everything in place, but he didn't even want to help because he's a prick. And then, I come all the way here, wearing this dumb, expensive dress which you haven't even complimented on me yet, and when I finally get this done, you act like you've died and come back as a ghost."

Sy crossed her arms, and angrily grunted. Mako immediately pulled himself together. The young lady sitting across from him never got upset without a reason, and even though she most likely wasn't capable of animosity, he still understood that he had seriously messed up.

"I'm sorry, really," he said earnestly. "I've just been distracted by this murder case. I saw something really awful, and I haven't been all there recently because of it. I just need some time to pull it together. And, if it means anything, you really do look beautiful tonight."

"A murder case is giving you psychological trauma, huh?" Sy questioned him. However, she rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay… that's a pretty decent excuse. So, wanna give me the details?"

"What? No way!" said Mako defensively. "You have no right to that information. It's not something you should hear about, anyway."

"Oh, really? Are you sure I can't change your mind on that?" Sy leaned forward across the table. She puckered her face and pressed in her chest with her shoulders, pushing forward her cleavage and wiggling slightly.

Mako just sighed. "Sy, people are staring at you."

It took a moment for Sy to open her eyes, upon which she noticed the dozen or so eyes glaring awkwardly in her direction. She laughed nervously, and lowered herself back into her seat.

"You should still tell me," she insisted. "I think I can handle it."

"I'm not telling you, at least not now anyway," said Mako, taking another bite of his meal. Sy groaned dejectedly.

"Fine! If you really don't think I should know, then don't tell me. Let's just spend the rest of the nights talking about all of my problems."

"You already told me all of your problems."

"Not all of them. And don't sound so upset about it. You're supposed to want to listen to your woman."

"Okay, Sy," said Mako, realizing he was going to be in for a long night. "How is everything going in your life?"

Sy pressed her chopsticks against her fish and rice. "Oh, everything is just great," she said through clenched teeth. "It took me weeks to get a reservation for this stupid, dumb restaurant, and then I had to listen to my stupid, dumb parent complain about my choices in my life, and then my stupid, dumb boyfriend—who is stupid and dumb—treats me like a kid and refuses to tell me about anything interesting, which makes me want to grab his stupid, dumb head and…"

The chopsticks struck the bottom of the bowl, and were nearly bent in half by the force of her small, pale fist. Mako rested his head in his hands.

"I got a call to investigate a noise complaint, and when I got there, I found a mutilated corpse and bloody writing on the wall," he stated. "The guy was some wealthy star from the early radio days. I'm looking into more details of his death. That's really all that's going on."

Sy removed her chopsticks from the bowl. "Now, was that really so hard to say?"

"I'm not really allowed to talk about an ongoing investigation. If Lin ever finds out, I'm screwed."

"Who cares about Beifong?" Sy asked rhetorically. "We're a couple, and couple's don't keep secrets from each other." She took a large, unladylike bite of her food, causing her small cheeks to puff out like a squirrel. "I always tell you everything. Like, I'm actually the psychotic murderer and I'm planning on taking you home and cannibalizing you."

Mako said nothing, causing Sy to burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm joking, silly!" she laughed, swallowing her food in one mighty gulp. "I mean, probably…"

* * *

Republic City contained both good and evil. At night, these features were exaggerated, expanded, creating a world that was wondrously beautiful and heartlessly manipulative. Depending on the region, one could either experience lovely vistas or be kidnapped and vanish into the night. One might be able to purchase rare oddities, or have part of themselves become a purchasable rare oddity. Those unfamiliar with the landscape had to be careful in the dark, sticking to the highly populated areas and avoiding any shady characters. At night, Republic City was a case of black or white.

However, on occasion, shades of grey were dipped into. The most notable of these greys were the street races. Over the past year, the rebellious youth had devised an event to fulfill their urges for adrenaline. Once per week, they would gather with their fast cars and their obnoxious smirks and their high-inducing substances, and would host a race around the city. These events were the most troublesome activities for the police, who had been chasing the teenagers down to no avail. Even if they were arrested for disturbing the public, they only seemed to be replaced by a dozen more eager youngsters who were just as capable. It had reached a point where the police almost didn't bother, because the effort would be almost completely wasted.

As it was on this night, the group of twenty racers gathered with their fastest cars and most obnoxious smirks near a high-end section of the city. The starting location would change, but the rituals remained constant. They would laugh and insult one another, talking of women and alcohol and glory. They had fans surrounding them, joining in the trash talk and hurling names every which way. It was all in preparation of the nightly race, which was scheduled to last for a good half-hour and lap all the way around the city. If one wanted to, and knew the right person to do so, they would be able to acquire the knowledge of the route and would be able to cheer on their favorite racer as they passed by. The police once attempted to put an end to the races this way, but found that they were being continuously duped by the occasionally intellectual teenagers. The races continued, and the racers had their fun.

One of these racers went by the name of Bow, a name which none of his colleagues knew was real or fabricated. He was the current champion of the street race, having one the last six events by a wide margin. His greased hair was slicked over his face, and his eyes were like that of a hawk. He never spoke, unless it was to stroke his own ego, which he did often. In actuality, he was the timid son of a factory worker, but on the streets, he could be whoever he wanted to be.

That said, when Mako and Sy happened to pass by and the detective spoke his mind, he felt a bit terrified on the inside.

"You know that street racing is illegal, right?" Mako asked warningly. The wave of teenagers simply laughed at him.

"Who cares? We're not hurting anybody!" said on the group members.

"Are you gonna call the police?" another taunted him.

"Get out of the way, you ass!" cried someone else.

Sy tugged on Mako's arm. After their meal had concluded, they had decided to take a long stroll throughout the city streets. It was a decent change of pace; Mako was always busy with his work, and Sy was usually pent up in her house like a lab rat. They had only been walking for a few minutes before Mako saw the teens revving up their engines and guided Sy towards them. All Sy wanted was a nice, quiet evening, but Mako, being the incredible idiot that he was, had to put his police duties first. As it was now, Sy was sick of spending another second with police Mako.

"Let's just leave them," she insisted, pulling on his muscular forearm. He remained firmly planted.

"They're breaking the law," he said unhappily. "I need to report them, or scold them, or something."

"Who cares about them? They're just looking for something to do. Besides, you promised me that you wouldn't deal with your work tonight."

Mako gave one final stare, and then gave in. He led her away from the crowd of drivers, who were jeering him and shouting insults as he went away. He led Sy through a side street, down several blocks, passing by various stores selling food and jewelry and fancy appliances that he could not afford to get. Once his mind was taken off the meddlesome youth, he began to think of other things to talk about. Sy liked conversation, which was one of the reasons why he liked her. There were so many things in his life that he could talk about, and it was comforting to know that someone was always open to listening and acted reassuring. Granted, there were other people in his life who could accomplish the same goal, but they all had some detracting factor. Bolin was brotherly, which was both a blessing and a curse. Korra was helpful and mostly courteous, but when she didn't like something he said or did, she was very blunt in telling him how wrong he actually was, maybe even throwing in an insult for good measure. Asami was probably the easiest to talk to, but she had her own problems going on, and if she was running out of time to talk to Korra, then she didn't really have any left to spare on him. He greatly enjoyed his friends, and luckily, so did Sy, who acted like they were her own kin.

"So, I hear that Bolin is going to be on the Pro-bending game tomorrow," Sy stated offhandedly. "What do you think he's going to talk about?"

"He's Bolin," Mako said simply. "He'll say something."

"Man, you're so lucky to have a brother. I wish I had a sibling."

"The problem with siblings is that you don't really appreciate having them until you need them. Bolin's saved me more times than I can count, but when we younger I was always annoyed by him."

"Hmm… do you think we'll ever have kids some day?" Sy asked innocently. Mako nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in shock. "We haven't even… no, let's just not talk about that stuff."

Sy giggled. "I'm just kidding."

"Well, stop kidding," Mako groaned. "I never know when I can take you seriously or not."

The couple stopped for a brief moment as Sy needed to adjust her heel. They happened to take their rest at an old clock tower, which had been running for forty years and still chimed appropriately on every hour. It was vastly approaching nine, yet the pair had no plans on going back home. The night was young; there was still so much to be done.

Mako looked across the street as Sy fumbled with her shoe. There was no particular reason for him to look, yet his eyes were drawn there by some unseen force. A man was standing alone across from him, wearing a thick green goat and glasses with dark rims. The sole source of light came from the clock, which illuminated one side of the street a dull yellow. The man was looking from side to side, almost as if he was checking to see if someone was watching him. Mako barely thought anything of it. Then, the clock's hand moved, and it struck the hour, signaling the series of rings from its enclosed, rusted bell.

_One._

From further up the road, twenty engines roared to life. Headlights appeared far away.

_Two._

The race had begun. The cars were speeding down the street, passing each other, moving hazardously towards the clock tower.

_Three._

Sy finished adjusting her heel, and tugged on Mako's arm. He remained in place, staring at the man. He seemed incredibly familiar for some reason, but Mako had no idea why.

_Four._

Mako looked at the man closely. Through the darkness, he noticed that the man was trembling uncontrollably, and was muttering something to himself.

_Five._

Tears were streaming down the man's face. Mako felt the sudden urge to move, but his body did not respond. He simply stood there and stared at the man across the street.

_Six._

Sy turned towards what Mako was staring emptily at. She didn't understand what was going on. Mako felt an overpowering sense of dread. The man noticed them staring at him, and closed his eyes.

_Seven._

He stepped into the middle of the road.

_Eight._

There was a blurry streak, a splatter of blood, a shout of pain and horror and confusion. A car swerved and crashed into the opposite sidewalk as chunks of flesh rained onto the pavement.

_Nine._

Silence. Everything went numb. The remaining cars passed without making a sound. Mako did not blink. He only saw a muddy haze, and only heard the repeated, bland thumping of his heart in his ears.

Then, all at once, reality broke through the haze. Sy let out a bloodcurdling scream, and collapsed. Mako's instincts took over. He waited for the last car to pass, and then dashed madly across the street. He ran over to the car, which had slammed into a stone wall and was billowing smoke out of the engine. The young racer Bow stumbled out of the car, gasping for air.

"He… he came out of nowhere," he muttered breathlessly to himself. Mako grabbed onto his shoulders, and stared into his eyes.

"What just happened?" Mako questioned him. "You just hit someone. What… what were you doing?"

"I… I didn't mean to kill anyone!" Bow said hysterically. "You have to… believe me! He just… he just came out and… I didn't mean it! Please, I'm so sorry and I didn't… oh please no…"

Bow fell to his knees, crying and wheezing and pleading all at once. Mako didn't know what to do or what to say. He backed away, and went into the road. The bloody torso of the man lied in a crumpled mess in the road. There was no chance that he was alive, but Mako couldn't help but check for a pulse. He was breathing heavily, looking around for someone that might have the answers. Bow was crying in a pathetic mess. Sy sat next to the clock tower, staring at the accident before her with wide, empty eyes.

Mako looked down at the body beneath him. It was staring forever up at the clock tower, its blank gaze watching time tick away. And then, all at once, Mako realized why he the man looked familiar. They had never met, but Mako knew his face from seeing it earlier that day in his investigation. The man, who was lying in pieces across the road, was Kuzo's son.


	4. Over the Phone

"Well, tonight's match is looking up to be a promising one!" claimed the excited sportscaster. "It's the Fire Ferrets against the Boar-q-pines in what's sure to be one of the matches of the season. These teams have had a rivalry in recent years unlike anything we've ever seen before."

"Yeah, it's pretty intense," said another voice. "Pro-benders these days are really fired up. Get it? Fired up? Fire Ferrets?"

"No folks, you are not mistaken. That is, in fact, the voice of the man joining me in the booth on this special night. He is the former pro-bending and mover icon of the world: Bolin!"

"It's a pleasure to be here tonight, Mr. Shinobi. I can't wait for things to get started."

The radio was the only source of audio in the desolate office aside from a flickering bulb in a dying lamp. Sounds of cheering burst through the speaker, echoing in the empty space. There were but two lone souls remaining in the police station at such a late hour. Their only decent source of entertainment came from the little brown box, and given their taxing work, entertainment was desperately required.

Chen sat in front of the radio with crossed legs, listening intently and smiling as if he was not in a dark, looming office. Mako was hunched over his desk, staring at the files that poured over his desk and consumed him. Last night, he had witnessed a suicide most surely by coincidence, and he could not fully wrap his head around the details. Bow—the young driver who was participating in the street race that led to the act of manslaughter—was taken in for questioning earlier that day, although he was shortly released. It was Lin who insisted on interrogating the poor soul, who was sniffling and crying for his parents for the duration of the process. Mako was skeptical from the beginning; he knew the poor kid wasn't a murderer. It was an unfortunate accident, one that would probably haunt Bow for the rest of his life. Worst of all, it wasn't his fault at all.

The blame truly laid with Feng, Kuzo's young son. According to Mako's files, Feng was a miserable wretch who had been living in poverty for several years. He was a petty thief, a poor investor, a disrespectful son, and a shameful mark on his entire family. Now, he was dead, his body lying in pieces in the morgue.

"You know, people really seem to like your brother," Chen said suddenly.

"Yeah, he's an icon alright," Mako agreed half-heartedly.

"I remember when I first saw a Nuktuk mover," Chen reflected. "It was so cool, unlike anything I've ever seen before. It had action, and drama, and then there was that scene where Nuktuk picked up the boulder and—"

"Could you keep quiet a little? I'm trying to work over here."

"You should try to be a little more like your brother, Mako," Chen suggested. "He's such a nice guy, and he seems like a good listener and—"

"Okay Chen, I get it," Mako groaned. He looked closer at his files, but finding nothing, slammed his fist into the desk. "Man, I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"These deaths," explained Mako. "It feels like they're related somehow, but nothing is lining up."

"How is nothing lining up? I think it's pretty obvious: father gets guilt, son feels depressed about it, ends his own life to be with his dad. Done, case closed."

"Except that Kuzo and Feng haven't spoken to each other in years. That's the weird part. The two of them seemed to have drifted pretty far apart. The last time they were near each other, Feng nearly robbed his father blind. They were barely connected. When Feng was informed about his father dying, the report says that he showed almost no emotion about it whatsoever. I'm not sure a suicide could be so easily caused by the death of someone that is barely considered family at all."

"Hey, family runs deep," was all Chen could say. "It's possible that Feng wanted to reunite, and then a tragedy happened. Maybe he felt so guilty that he took his own life to compensate all of the evil. Heck, maybe he actually was the killer, and since he felt so horrible about the act afterwards, he couldn't live with himself." Chen stopped to admire his own train of thought. "Yeah… that's why he acted indifferent when he was told that Kuzo died, because he already knew he was dead! It's why 'greedy' was written on the wall: because Feng was a thief! Ha! If that's the case, then we don't even have to hunt down a murderer anymore; he's already taken care of. It's a win-win… except, well, I guess not that pretty of one if you think about it."

Mako sighed. It was a possibility; in fact, it was a very likely possibility. Grief was one of the most devastating weapons of all. It could pull a person down into the depths of the earth; rip apart their emotions, shut off their cognitive thinking entirely. Guilt was just as bad, if not even worse. Grief, guilt, rage, anguish: all were common emotions that could push one over the edge. Was that the answer? Was a family torn apart by a horrific murder—a murder possible committed by one of its own—and then in order to get back stability, and love, and cherishment, someone took their own life in a bloody spectacle?

There were only two problems Mako saw to this theory. One was the murder of Kuzo, and its methodology. Kuzo wasn't simply killed briefly without thought. He was maimed, tortured for hours, if not days before his end came. The act didn't fit Feng's psychological profile. The son was a thief, not a killer. He was a weak, cowardly man, one nearly incapable of torturing his father for such a lengthy period of time. He most likely didn't even have the medical knowledge to perform the acts. And if he felt such guilt afterwards, wouldn't he have experienced guilt while he was still torturing a man? Wouldn't he have realized his mistake sooner? How did he break into Kuzo's apartment, and how did no one find any evidence of him the next day when the police talked to him?

There was only one other problem Mako had with that theory. He was there when Feng stepped into the street at nine o'clock at night. Feng did not look remorseful, or burdened, or pained, or frustrated, or tired, or depressed, or unhappy. He looked afraid.

The phone on Mako's desk began to ring, startling him out of his thoughts. He suspected it might have been Sy. If it wasn't, it didn't change the fact that he needed to talk to her. After last night, she had barely uttered a single word to him. He could only imagine what she must have been going through. He could handle the sight of gore rather decently, but she was too innocent, too pure hearted to know how to deal with such graphic imagery. Nervously, Mako picked up the phone.

"This is Detective Mako," he said officially. "What do you need?"

"Hey, Mako. It's me."

The detective quickly recognized the voice. "Korra? What's going on?"

"Nothing really. That's sort of the problem. You said that you'd be working overtime, so I called you up."

"Yeah, but why?" he asked.

"Because there's nothing else to do," the Avatar groaned. "Tenzin's making me watch over things while he's out of the city. I just need someone to talk to."

"Hi Korra!" Chen shouted loudly.

"Hi Chen!" Korra returned his greeting with such cheer that Mako had to shove the blaring speaker away from his face. "So, are you listening to Bolin right now? He's actually doing pretty well on the commentary."

"You know," Mako said dejectedly. "I'm kind of working on something right now. It probably isn't the best time to talk."

"Is it that murder case?" Korra asked, concerned. "I meant to ask about that. It's horrible; such a nice guy having a horrible thing happen to him. Do you know how his family is holding up?"

"I have no idea how his daughter is. His son… his son died yesterday."

Korra was silent.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah… I'm here," she sighed. "That's just awful. Was he—"

"No. Suicide. Saw it happen right in front of my eyes."

"Oh jeez… how did it happen? Are you holding up okay?"

"I'm feeling alright," said Mako firmly. "I just need to focus on solving this case."

"I'm telling you: Feng was the killer!" Chen said, throwing his arms up in disbelief. "He was acting out of guilt! The evidence is right in front of your face, and you still won't believe me! I know I'm onto something!"

Mako snapped. "Chen, not now. Anyway, it's been a pretty rough week."

"I really wish I could help you out in some way," Korra said honestly. "I want you to know that if there's anything I can do to help, all you need to do is ask, and then I'll be right on it."

"That's good to hear, but you shouldn't get too wrapped up in this. I think I can handle it. If you really want to help, you could convince Sy to stop making weird innuendos. Last night, she told me that she'd kidnap me and tie me in her basement, or something. Seriously, I can deal with murder, but that girl is starting to drive me nuts."

"Wait… you two are still dating?" Korra asked, her mood shifting from burdened to mildly amused within seconds. "I thought you broke up with that maniac months ago."

"No, we're still together," Mako said, taking pain in his own words. "You just didn't like her at all."

"Man, you have terrible choices in women," Korra joked. "I know that includes me, but you need to get that through your head."

Korra liked that particular joke. It was an easy joke to make, and it was easy to slip it into any practical conversation. She didn't know what made it so funny—the insult towards herself, the insult at Mako, or the fact that it was all true—but she was fond of it. Even now, when she was in a conversation focused primarily on murder, she still found a reason to use it. It was what she needed in such grim circumstances: levity.

She heard a clicking noise coming from her receiver. "Hold on," she informed Mako. "I've got someone on the other line. Give me a second."

It took Korra some fumbling to switch lines. In her dimly-lit room, she was sprawled across her bed, wearing nothing but undergarments; her legs were crossed over each other, and her hair was splayed out in a brown heap. She scratched her toned stomach with one hand as her other fingers tapped across the base of the phone. If someone was to walk in on her, they would probably find her revolting. Korra didn't care; her appearance really meant nothing, because no matter what she looked like, she was still herself.

"Hello?" she asked tiredly.

"Korra? It's Asami. We need to talk."

Immediately, Korra snapped to attention. She repositioned herself so that she was lying in a somewhat less exposing position. She patted down her hair back into place, straightened her shoulders, and draped a blanket over her legs.

"Oh, Asami," Korra said both happily and nervously. "What's going on? It's, uh, pretty late for a phone call."

"I meant to call you sooner, but I got sidetracked," Asami admitted. "Listen, there's something I want to tell you."

"Well, I'm actually on the phone with Mako right now," Korra said shamefully. The last impression she wanted to give was that she was blowing off her girlfriend to have a meaningful conversation with Mako. But then, inspiration struck. "Wait, I'll just connect you guys so we can all talk together!"

"Wait Korra," Asami said worriedly. "I kind of wanted us to talk in priva—"

Before Asami could finish, the transition was done. As it was, she found herself caught in the middle of a conversation that she really had no reason being a part of.

"Mako, I've got Asami on the line," Korra said with a hint of pride.

"Why did you do that?" Mako asked in confusion. He backtracked, "Not that I don't want to speak with her, which I do, but she really doesn't have anything to do with what we were talking about."

"Mako's right," said Asami. "I don't even know what you guys are doing, unless talking about Bolin. He sounds really good out there."

"I know, right?" Korra agreed. "Actually, I was ripping on Mako's girlfriend."

"The one I haven't met yet?"

"Yeah, and be glad you haven't."

"Korra, that's pretty harsh," Asami scolded. "But enough of that. Mako, can you please get off of the line? I have some… girl problems I need to talk to Korra about."

"You two can have all the space you need," Mako said sternly. "I have an investigation to work on. I don't know how I got distracted from that for so long, but it needs to end now."

"Aw," complained Chen suddenly. "But your friends are so fun to hang out with. By the way, congratulations on the engagement."

Mako raised an eyebrow. "Engagement? I'm not engaged."

"Not you," Chen explained. "Haven't you been paying any attention to the radio?"

"No, I haven't. I've been talking. Why?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious," Chen stated. "Your brother just announced his engagement twenty seconds ago. So, congratulations: you've just become a brother-in-law."

* * *

**Note: Sorry if this chapter is a bit shorter than usual. We've been kind of busy the past week. Hopefully we can make these longer as we continue. As always, leave feedback if you can (seriously, that would be really cool of you), and we'll see you next time.**


	5. Love

Bolin and Opal had taken up their residence in an apartment on the north side of Republic City. The pair had agreed to live together shortly after the revival of their relationship, although the apartment rarely saw much use unless the two were staying in the city, which was a rarity all unto itself. They had been spending the majority of their time anywhere else, ranging from the freezing ice caps to the colossal mountains of the northern continent. Opal was still very much loyal to the cause of the Air Nomads, and she could not have been persuaded to remain fixed in one location knowing that others were still in need of assistance elsewhere. Bolin was essentially her traveling compatriot, but he never felt diminished in his role, always acting very much like an equal.

There had only been a handful of other occasions when the two settled down in one place for more than a month or two. Most of the time, it was caused by them visiting a family member or attending a grand event. Yet, it was on this particular night that the two settled down to celebrate their own significant event: their engagement.

The apartment wasn't large or extravagant, but it didn't need to be. There were only the essentials: a dining table, a stove, a large bed and bedroom, a fridge, a bathroom, a couch, and a radio. For the Bolin and Opal, snuggling together late at night under a silky blanket, it was absolutely perfect. They were at peace.

Unfortunately, it was at this hour that a loud banging began on the door, disrupting the atmosphere.

"Who could that be?" Opal wondered. Bolin merely shrugged.

"Eh, it can't be that important," he reasoned, finding a mediocre excuse not to get up from the couch. "Who else would knock at midnight?'

The question miraculously answered itself. "Bolin! It's your brother! Open the damn door now!"

Bolin, for all of the wondrous things he had done over his life, had made a mistake this night. He had goofed so erroneously that it was almost impossible to ever trust his judgment on anything ever again. He shared a worried glance with Opal, looking for some emotional support. She gave him a confused shrug. Taking a deep breath, the young earthbender rose from the couch and walked to the door. He placed his hand on the handle, but did not turn it.

"Aren't you going to open it?" she asked him expectantly.

"Would you open it if you did what I did?"

Opal shook her head. "I told you that you should have let them know."

Bolin gulped. He knew he couldn't hide behind the wooden door forever. Timidly, he turned the handle, and slightly pulled the door ajar. Within seconds, Mako, Korra and Asami all tumbled into the room, falling over each and winding up in a heap on the ground. Bolin laughed nervously.

"Hey guys," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "So… what brings you all here?"

Mako sprung off of the ground and grabbed Bolin by the shoulders, shoving him against a wall. "Why didn't you tell us you were getting married?" Mako snarled.

Bolin shuddered. "Oh man, please don't kill me! I just found love!"

"Mako, get off of him," said Asami, pulling away her psychotic ex. Bolin, once released, hugged the wall, fearful for his life.

"Phew… thanks, Asami," he gasped. "It's good to see you again. By the way, you're looking—ack!"

Before he could finish, Asami grabbed onto his shoulders and violently shoved him against the wall.

"Why didn't you tell us that you were getting married?" she asked, outraged.

"Why are you people so angry!?' Bolin asked desperately. "This is supposed to be a happy occasion!"

Korra stood up, and shook Asami's shoulders, causing her to release her grip. "Babe, I don't think that helps right now." In a moment, Bolin was released yet again, falling to his knees. However, he noticed Korra take a step towards him, and he raised his arms in defense.

"Korra, if you shove me against the wall, I'm going to lose it!" he stated, a manic look in his eye.

Korra groaned. "I'm not going to shove you against the wall."

Bolin let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, thank you. Now, maybe I can have a chance to—erk!"

Bolin, unfortunately, didn't have a chance to finish speaking as Korra sucker punched him in the gut, causing him to collapse in agony.

"_That_ was for not telling us," Korra said sternly. She crossed her arms and grimaced at him, which Blin did not see as he was rolling on the floor. Opal hurriedly ran over and stepped in-between her fiancé and her friends.

"Can we stop hitting each other for just a second?" Opal begged. She turned to Bolin, worriedly. "Honey, are you alright?"

"Oh man," Bolin said through clenched teeth. "I'm pretty sure that punch ruptured… everything. Just… just every part of my body."

It took several minutes for the excitement to die down. Bolin was gently brought back to his feet, and Opal helped him maintain his balance. Meanwhile, the rest of his friends waited around patiently and resisted the urge to smack Bolin further or hug him tighter than ever before. It was one of the strangest feelings of empathy and disgust they had ever experienced. They were so immensely happy, and yet so furious that they could not focus on anything.

"Now, I know you're probably wondering the same thing," Bolin said knowingly. "Why did I decide to announce our engagement on live radio before telling it to our closest friends and family?"

"Including me," Mako added bitterly.

"Yes, well… I have an answer," stated Bolin. "The truth is: I didn't tell any of you guys because I thought it would be more fun to surprise you this way."

The three merely stared at him in disbelief.

"You left us in the dark because it would be more fun?" Korra asked, shocked.

"Well, Bolin and I were talking about it," said Opal. "We figured that it might hassle you to call you all down individually and tell you. Then you'd all have to take time out of your day just to manage us."

"So I figured, I'm already doing an interview during the pro-bending match that you'll be listening to anyway," Bolin reasoned. "It made a lot of sense, and it allowed us to get the information out all at once. It also made for a pretty cool public event. Besides, now we all get to be together to celebrate."

"So, you didn't bother telling us this earth-shattering news because you wanted it to come across as a spectacle?" Mako asked. "That's… that's a very dumb idea."

"Yes it is, Mako. Yes it is," Bolin agreed intelligently, nodding his head. "You see, I wasn't counting on you three being so… excited about it. I probably could have saved a lot of abdominal pain that way. So, what do you guys think?"

What did they think? Obviously, Bolin knew they felt some distrust, and probably some anger, and maybe a bit of betrayal as well. Hopefully, they would be able to move past that, or at least, that was his assumption. They were his closest friends. They would always be there to support him, especially when something of this magnitude happened.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Mako finally smiled.

"Come over here and hug me, you psychotic ass."

Like a child running into his father's arms, Bolin leapt into Mako's grasp, and gave his brother the biggest hug he could muster. Asami and Korra couldn't help but smirk at the event; it was positively adorable. The animosity had washed away, and they couldn't help but join in on the massive hug as well.

The five young adults eventually made their way to the dining table, where they sat and talked endlessly about the news. Opal brought out some sparkling beverage, and it was gulped down hastily. They talked for hours about details. Mako proudly proclaimed himself best man, to which Bolin replied by telling him that the position was already being considered for Pabu. Asami asked about gowns, and Opal said that she had no idea what she was remotely interested in. Korra asked if the pair would eventually settle down, to which the couple said that they would probably keep on the move. Opal championed around her ring, Asami sipped glistening wine, Bolin cracked terrible jokes, Mako wrestled with his brother, and Korra was content with simply watching everyone being happy for a change. Korra hadn't really felt any sort of joy on this magnitude for a long while. She hoped that the cheer would last an eternity.

And then, someone made the mistake about asking when the reception was going to be.

"Oh, I couldn't even tell you that," Opal said. "All we know is that we want it to be soon."

"Yeah, it's pretty hard to wait around," Bolin agreed. "Even though it will be a ton of work, it just feels right to get it done fast."

"Well, that's a fun way to look at it," said Mako. "Do you have any time frame?"

"Well…" Opal thought. "We don't know when exactly, but our original plans were about a month, maybe two months away."

Korra and Mako burst into a series of happy cheers. However, upon hearing the time, Asami nearly choked on her precious drink. Korra gazed at her worryingly.

"Hey, is everything alright?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Asami lied. "So, by one month, do you mean _next_ month?"

"Well, yes," said Bolin. "That's kind of the month after this one."

Asami looked away. Korra recognized concern in her green eyes.

"Um, this is an embarrassing question," Asami said slowly, twiddling her thumbs. "Do you think… well, do you think it's possible… to maybe delay the wedding for a bit?"

All eyes were focused on her. The laughter and cheered were sucked out of the room by a vacuum of enigma.

"What's wrong with next month?" Mako asked, intrigued. Asami immediately looked at Korra, judging her gaze. She felt her stomach drop. Sweat began to slide down her forehead. She hadn't said a word, but she knew that once she did, she was going to instantly regret everything. Korra continued to stare at her, unknowing, unaware of the pain she was about to receive. All of the attention in the room was focused on one fixed point, and the pressure expanded until Asami finally felt the urge to admit the truth.

"Well, you see," Asami began, her voice quivering. "A few days from now, I'm actually going on a… a business trip. I'm going to be away for the next… month or so concentrating on my work. So, if that's the case…"

Asami trailed off, unable to speak under Korra's intensified gaze.

"You're leaving again?" asked the Avatar, sounding empty. Asami stared at her sparkling glass, making sure to concentrate on it as hard as she could so that she wouldn't look at her girlfriend.

"It's okay, Asami," Bolin said ignorantly. "We couldn't possibly not include you. It just wouldn't be the same."

"In a few days," Korra repeated, feeling the joy being sucked out of her. "You're going to be leaving? And you'll be gone for a whole month?"

_Korra, don't do this, _Asami mouthed silently. Yet, it was too late; the damage was done. Korra placed her glass back on the table, and crossed her arms, muttering something unintelligible under her breath. The conversation had resumed, as Bolin began describing his grand journey in his quest to ask for Opal's hand in marriage. However, Asami and Korra were paying no attention to it. For the next fifteen minutes, Korra sat in complete silence, sitting with crossed arms and staring blankly at the tablecloth. Asami kept trying to get her to say something, anything, even something hateful, but it was futile. Korra had shut down, and Asami couldn't even blame her.

Eventually, while Bolin was approaching the end of his story, Korra rose from her chair, and looked at Asami with cold eyes.

"Could I speak to you privately for a moment?" she asked. Every fiber of Asami's being told her not to go, but she couldn't refuse. Reluctantly, she too stood up, and followed Korra into the bedroom.

The bedroom was a lavish red, romantic and soothing. Asami was secretly hoping that the atmosphere would help make the upcoming event much less painful, but found it to be unlikely. She quietly sat on the bed, keeping her eyes fixated on Korra as she shut the door slowly. The Avatar brushed the hair out of her eyes, smearing her hands across her face. What was she supposed to say now? There were a million things she wanted to say, but had no idea how to articulate them. Asami could practically feel the intensity coming off of her.

"Look, Korra," Asami said slowly. "I know what you're going to say—"

"Are you kidding me?" Korra asked simply.

"Let's just calm down," Asami suggested nervously. "I really think we should—"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Korra asked again, more harshly than before. "You cannot be serious right now."

"—I think we should wait until we leave to discuss this…" Asami finished. However, Korra had had enough.

"No, we're talking about this now," she stated with conviction. "Because you don't get to say that you're leaving, especially when you _promised_ that you would stay, and then act like it's no big deal."

Asami sighed. Korra was glaring at her, her bright blue eyes piercing through the feeble layers of her skin. "Okay," she finally said. "We can talk, but can I get a chance to explain first?"

"Explain what? It's pretty obvious what's going on here. You flat-out lied to me!"

"Let me explain," Asami pleaded. "Shang called and asked if I was willing to travel with him to the Fire Nation in order to perform some more testing on the equipment. He offered me an extended contract that's nearly double what was settled on, and he said he was willing to nearly halve manufacturing costs. I know that I said I would settle down for a while, but this kind of came up unexpectedly and I made a split-second call. That kind of deal can get Future Industries ahead for a very long time."

"Future Industries…" Korra muttered angrily. "Everything is about Future Industries, isn't it?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Well, let me show you my side of things," Korra explained. "I start dating you, and I get the impression that things are going along really well. In fact, they're going better than I expected. I figure you're going to have to sacrifice some time for your company, just like I'm going to have to sacrifice some time for being the Avatar. That's fine. Cool. I get that. After a while, I ask you if we want to go public, and you tell me that we should wait it out until the right time. Once again, that's understandable. I don't have a problem with waiting for things if I know that it will make you feel more comfortable."

Korra sighed dejectedly. "And then, fast-forward to our lives now, and literally nothing has changed; if it did, it's only gotten worse. We spend almost no time together, and when we actually manage to get together, all that you can focus on is your company. Every conversation we have seems to be about it. You disappear for weeks at a time, going who knows where just to keep Future Industries afloat. And once I think you've finally come to say, something else comes up, and you leave again. It's… it's infuriating, Asami! All I'm trying to do is spend time with you, and it seems like you are actively trying to get away from me."

"I'm trying to save my company," Asami said defensively. However, the weakness in her voice was apparent.

"And I understand that!" Korra said with a pained expression. "Really, I can understand why you're doing this. I know how much this means to you, but sometimes—" she froze, trying desperately to translate her thoughts into words. "—I mean, look around you. Kai and Jinora are nearly adults. Bolin and Opal are getting married to each other. We don't even _live_ together, Asami. Every time I ask you if you want to go public, you tell me to wait until your company is more stable. Every time I ask if I should move in with you, you tell me to wait until the company is more stable. Honestly, I'm starting to get the feeling like things will _never_ be stable enough to get us moving forward. At this point—where we've lived for a damn quarter of a century—we need to at least be moving forward, and not caught up in this same stupid cycle we've been putting up with for years."

Korra dropped to one knee, and grabbed on to Asami's delicate fingers. She looked her lover straight in her beautiful, green eyes, and whispered.

"Asami, we need to fix this before it gets out of hand. You need to get some time free from your work, because… it's almost starting to feel like you love Future Industries more than you love me."

"I don't," Asami said quickly, reassuringly. "Believe me, I don't."

"I believe you," Korra responded. "But that is what it's starting to feel like. You're getting consumed by your work, and it's starting to influence everyone else around you. You've been under so much stress that you haven't acted normally in a year. You clearly aren't getting enough sleep, you barely want to talk over the phone, you never want to go out; the last thing I want for you is to lose yourself in this mess. Just… take a break from it all. Spend some time with me alone; no work, no distractions, just the two of us together like we used to do. I think it's what you need—_we need_—in order to make this work."

The air was thick and humid inside the sweltering bedroom. Korra looked away, feeling an immense burden get release off of her chest. She had no idea how long those thoughts had been clouding her mind, but she felt nothing but relief in saying them. She did not know what to expect. What was Asami going to do now? Kiss her? Slap her? Ignore her?

Instead, Asami cleared her throat, and gently released Korra's grasp on her hand. "Look… I know this past year has been kind of rough. It's been really rough for me too."

Korra felt her heart sink a little. She recognized the tone in the non-bender's voice; it was one of reluctant dismissiveness. Notably, there was also a large echo of regret and sadness.

"I'm sorry that I've been so busy lately," Asami said honestly, feeling her eyes start to tear up. "I'm sorry I haven't spent nearly as much time with you as I should have, and that I've had to go away so often. I know that, recently, I've been acting out of the ordinary. I know I've been a bit standoffish and cold, and I genuinely apologize for my behavior. I don't want you to think of me in that way. And also, I'm so, so sorry about lying to you. I shouldn't haven't led you on like that."

"But?" Korra asked, already knowing where Asami was heading with the conversation.

Asami sighed deeply. "But… I can't just go off and leave Future Industries behind."

Korra groaned, and threw herself onto the bed. Asami felt a pang in her chest.

"Please don't act like that," she begged mercifully. "I don't want to have to choose between you and my family's business."

"It's a company, Asami!" Korra cried. "You're treating it like it's a real person, but it isn't. Future Industries doesn't feel, it doesn't bleed, and it sure as hell doesn't bend over backwards to please you in any way that it can."

"But it's my family," Asami said sadly. Silence once again filled the room. Korra stared at the silky sheets beneath her, unwilling to say anything else. Asami lowered herself onto her back, and rested her hands behind her head. "Do you know why I never talk about my mother?"

Korra looked at Asami's face, which was flushed and concentrated on holding back tears. "Because you don't feel comfortable talking about her?"

"Because I can't," Asami said, ashamed. "Or at least, I couldn't. When she died, it felt like a piece of my heart was torn out and burnt into ashes. If anyone brought up her name, or even mentioned the word 'mom', I would burst into tears. I had to turn all of my pictures of her down towards the floor because I couldn't manage to look at her. It took me almost two full years before I could even talk about her without losing it. It was probably the most painful experience of my entire life."

A tear escaped her eyes, and rolled gently down her cheek. With a swift motion, Korra brushed away the drop water. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm not good at losing things," Asami said with a sad smile. "For his entire life, my father dedicated everything to Future Industries. That was his legacy, his family, his everything. Now, he's gone too, and that legacy falls to me. I'm the _last_ of my line, Korra. I know you understand what it means to feel like you're legacy is being taken away. You have the Avatar spirit, and I have Future Industries. My family put everything into that business, and if I lose that… it will be like losing the last bit of family I have remaining."

Asami looked at the ceiling, staring at the elegant pattern on its surface. Korra reached over, and lightly turned her head so that they were staring face-to-face.

"Except you won't be losing your family," she said with certainty. "I'm part of your family. Those people waiting outside this room are your family also. You can't really be alone as long as we're here with you. Look, I'm sorry for getting so pissed off before; I'm just worried about you. If you're ever really having problems dealing with this, you can talk to me all you want about it. I'm always going to be there for you."

Asami sighed, feeling a cool wave of relief wash over her. She felt an overwhelming urge to give the Water Tribe woman a kiss, and so she did. She pressed their lips together for the first time in weeks, and felt the energy and heat and passion flow between them like surging electricity.

"I love you so much," Asami said after pulling away to catch her breath. Korra looked at her with steamy eyes and smiled back.

"I think that's pretty obvious," she said slyly.

"Before I go, we need to have a date night, a huge one. I think we deserve one after all of this. And then I swear, the moment I get back, we are going to push this forward. We can go as far as you want: you'll move in, we'll leak stories about ourselves to tabloids… anything you want to do."

"To be honest," Korra said, biting her lip. "I kind of just want to do this for a while."

Asami giggled, wiping the remaining tears from her face. "I think we can manage to do that."

Suddenly, Opal's voice penetrated through the door. "Hey, will you two stop making out on our bed already!?"

The couple shared nervous glances at each other. "Uh… how much of that did you guys hear?"

"Just that last bit," stated Bolin. "And the part when Korra was screaming. The walls are kind of thin in this place."

Asami thrust her head against the pillow. "See Korra, _this_ is why I wanted to have this conversation in private."

The two women managed to untangle themselves from each other, and walked to the door. Even though she felt horribly embarrassed, Korra actually felt somewhat glad. Maybe some actual progress was going to be made. Maybe the two of them could finally get back to a normal relationship. Maybe, everything would turn out alright.

The door opened. More drinks were passed around. The celebration resumed.

* * *

**Note: This was actually a pretty interesting change of pace for us, since writing romantic drama isn't exactly our forte. Still, we think it turned out alright. What do you think? As always, we appreciate and encourage all reviews and feedback. We'll update again soon, so stay tuned.**


	6. Two in the Morning

It was two in the morning.

What was Zhu Li doing up at two in the morning? She really had no idea herself. It wasn't a particularly restless day. She wasn't overly stressed about upcoming events. She wasn't hateful, or moody, or disappointed, or in pain; she just couldn't fall asleep.

She was lying in bed, but she was making no effort to fall asleep. Her husband was supposed to be sleeping next to her, but he had rolled off the bed and was now lying on his face, snoring loudly. Zhu Li found it slightly adorable, yet mostly annoying. In her hands was a large novel, her eyes scanning back and forth across the pages, taking in the information emotionlessly.

In a few days, she would have to leave her home behind once again. She would be touring around the world with Shang for thirty days, and though she could not claim she knew much about the devious businessman, she was glad to be involved in something that would assist Future Industries. Throughout all of the ups and downs of the past few years, Asami was a kindred spirit. Anything that could prove helpful to the struggling CEO was an accomplishment.

The phone rang. Zhu Li stared at the device on her nightstand quizzically. Who would be calling at this hour? She looked expectantly at Varrick, but he did not stir. With a disinterested groan, she placed her book on her lap, and picked up the phone.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Hello? Is this the right number?" asked a young, slimy voice. "I'm supposed to have the number of a Mr. Varrick."

"Yes, this is the right number."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize he had a broad over."

"This broad," Zhu Li said, her voice monotone. "…is his wife."

"Huh, that's strange," the man muttered. "I thought he was unmarried. Anyway, this is Shang. How are you, Mrs. Not-A-Broad?"

"Fine," she groaned, noting the distinct lack of apology. "Is there a specific reason you decided to call at two in the morning?"

"Is there a specific reason why you're awake at two in the morning?"

Zhu Li said nothing. She felt a sudden urge to hang up the phone, but managed to restrain herself.

"Listen, you know how I scheduled that trip with all of us for like, five days from now?" Shang asked.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, not anything wrong," he said. "Well, I guess there is one thing: I'm so damn _bored_. I mean, I'm ready to get this trip going right away, and yet I'm still going to be forced to wait another week or so to go. It's tiring! So, I figured, since waiting around for time to kill us all is dumb, I've decided to reschedule the trip… for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Zhu Li asked in shock. "Shouldn't you have maybe told us that a bit sooner?"

"Well, I only made up my mind about ten minutes ago, so no, I couldn't have," Shang said, showing no sign of regret. "It's not that bad. You can pack together some toothbrushes or whatever in a few hours. Then, tomorrow at noon, we're going to head out on this grand expedition together!"

It became obvious to Zhu Li at that moment that Shang clearly didn't understand anything about normal people. If he wanted to leave at noon, then that gave her ten hours to pack a month's worth of supplies for both her and Varrick, because she knew full well that he would be to unconscious to do anything. Plus, she would have to shift around appointments, inform others of her sudden departure, and pretty much cancel every single project she was currently working on.

"You're insane," Zhu li stated bluntly. "We can't get ready this quickly. We agreed to leave in five days, and that's what we're going to stick to."

"Well, that's too bad," said Shang, feigning disappointment. "I'm leaving tomorrow no matter what. I guess if you don't want to come with me, then we could just cancel this whole deal we've got going on and go back to being competitors."

"Wait, wait," she said tiredly. "What did Asami have to say about all of this?"

"Oh, she doesn't know. You're going to have to tell her that. I can't be in control of everything."

"When am I going to be able to tell her? It's two in the morning. She's probably asleep."

"You were probably asleep, and yet here you are, talking to me," Shang said matter-of-factly. "Look, just tell her that if she wants to help Future Alliances, she'll come to my offices, packed and prepared, by noon. I expect to see you and Mr. Varrick there as well."

"You're an ass."

"And what a genius ass I am," he retorted smugly. "Goodnight, Mrs. Not-A-Broad. See you soon!"

Zhu Li slammed the line down on the receiver. She buried her face into her pillow. In a quarter of a second, all of her plans were ruined. Instead of even hoping of going back to sleep, she was now going to have to spend ten hours of her time getting ready for a stupid business trip with a horrible, misogynistic worm. It made her feel sick that someone who acted in such a childish manner could ever become the head of such a successful enterprise. Who would even trust someone as immature and ignorant as that?

"Yes, baby… turn the foot massager up to seventy percent," Varrick moaned dreamily.

It took ten minutes of angst holding her in place before Zhu Li managed to grab the phone once more, and give Asami the call. Best case scenario: Asami reluctantly accepted her fate, and went back to sleep. Worst Case Scenario: Zhu Li would have to deal with two unbearable CEOs.

"H-hello? Asami responded drearily after several minutes.

"It's Zhu Li. We have a slight problem."

Asami yawned. "Zhu… what are you doing up at two in the morning?"

"Never mind that. I need you to pay attention to what I'm going to tell you, okay?"

"Uh… sure," Asami shook herself awake. "Hey, did you know that Bolin is getting married? I'm so happy for him…"

"Focus, Sato!" Zhu Li said sternly. "It's about Future Industries. We might have a small problem."

"I'm focused! What's the issue?" Asami said bitterly. She had just awoken from one of the best sleeps she had in ages, and the one thing she was not in the mood for was a problem.

"Shang has decided that our comfort was not in his best interest," Zhu Li explained. "He wants us to leave tomorrow at noon. He says he hates waiting and refuses to start the trip any later."

"Tomorrow?" Asami asked in disbelief, gradually growing more aware of her surroundings. "You mean actual tomorrow? I have stuff to get done… can't it wait—"

"He said…" Zhu li paused. "He said that if you delayed, the deal with Future Industries was off. It's either tomorrow or nothing. I'm sorry."

Asami was silent. Zhu Li, although knowing fully well that none of it was her fault, still felt horrible about the news. She spoke softly.

"It's alright. We can work around this, but you should start packing now. Get some coffee, grab a bag, and start getting your—"

"I'm not going," Asami interrupted her.

Zhu Li froze. "What are you talking about?"

"If Shang's insisting on leaving tomorrow, then you're just going to have to tell him that I'm not coming along."

"Sato, I don't think you get it," Zhu Li said, agitated. "Shang was very specific: if you don't show up, you're out of the deal."

"He doesn't actually mean that," Asami said, slightly unsure. "If you're stubborn enough with him, then he should change his mind; it worked pretty well last time."

"And if, by some chance, you don't know what you're talking about and he refuses to listen, then what are you going to do?"

"Then…" Asami contemplated. "Then, I'm going to do the exact same thing. I'm not leaving."

"Asami, think about this—"

"No, I'm thinking about it," said Asami harshly. "We made an agreement to leave in five days, and that's what I plan to do. There are too many important things for me to just get up and leave without a moment's notice. If it comes down to it, then I'll fly out and meet you along the way."

"You're company is at stake. Be reasonable!" Zhu Li pleaded. "This is the same business you have been freaking out over for months. What could be so important that you're going to risk this deal for?"

"I… I told Korra that I would spend the next few days with her," Asami said, almost ashamedly.

"You're… you're going to screw over Future Industries so you can hang out with your girlfriend for another few days?" Zhu li said in disbelief.

"Yes," Asami said with conviction. "That's exactly what I plan to do." Zhu Li heard a moan on the other end of the line.

"Babe, what the hell are you doing?" a groggy voice asked gently.

"Korra, go back to sleep," Asami whispered. "It's just a business-related thing."

"But I—" Korra yawned. "—I thought you were through with that."

"I am," Asami insisted. "Just go back to sleep."

Zhu Li stammered. "Oh… I didn't know Korra was there with you."

"What… oh no, it's not—" Asami flushed. "No, I mean… she didn't want to take a ride back to… I was just letting her crash and…"

"I think I get the picture," Zhu Li sighed uncomfortably.

"No, it's…" Asami groaned. She brushed aside the comment. "Look, a few hours ago, I found out that one of my best friends is getting married. It gave me a revelation: this life, this business, isn't worth losing _everything_ over. I have been sitting idly by, watching people live to the fullest while I drown myself in my work. Frankly, I don't see the point in doing that any longer. I made a promise to Korra—to the one person I care about more than anything else in the world—that I was going to spend the next few days with her. I don't care if it means that the company goes under; I can work my way around is. I don't care if I lose all that I've been working on, not anymore. All I know for certain is that no matter what happens, I am _not_ breaking my promise to Korra."

Zhu Li sighed. "I'm glad that you're sticking up for someone you care about. That's a really noble thing to do. Except, Asami, you've clearly forgotten: Korra is still just a person. If she cares about you as much as you care about her, then I'm sure she would be able to forgive you for something like this."

"I know she would," Asami agreed. "But… I wouldn't."

Without another word, Asami hung up the line. Zhu Li stared contemplatively at the receiver. She still felt responsible for everything that was going wrong, but she knew that it was all the fault of stubbornness. Asami's problems were her own. Shang's stupidity was her own. Unfortunately, she was now caught in the horrid position of having to explain to Shang that the parties had failed to work out an agreement. Best case scenario: Shang was a reasonable person, and was willing to change his mind.

Worst case scenario: she would have a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

It was two in the morning.

What was Nuo doing walking in the park at two in the morning? It wasn't that she was usually asleep at this hour. In fact, in her line of work, she thrived at this hour. However, this was a slow night, and she somehow found herself walking in the middle of the park. It was nonsensical: she should have been downtown with her friends, making money so she could actually live for once. Instead, she walked down a path of solitude, a thick coat wrapped over her otherwise revealing outfit.

"Man, it's freezing," she muttered to herself. Was that the cause of the night's slow business? Was it simply too cold? No, she decided, it mustn't be that. There had to be another reason for such poor business. Then again, it didn't really matter. No matter what the cause of the issue was, she still had no customers, and she was still walking by herself in the park in the middle of the night.

She stopped to rest by a dim streetlamp. Nuo wasn't afraid of the dark; she had spent most of her life in the nighttime. Still, when a voice called out to her from the shadows, she couldn't help but jump.

"Hey miss, are you alright?"

Nuo jumped back, and immediately felt foolish. Although she could not see the figure, the voice sounded gentle and innocent enough.

"Uh, no," she said awkwardly. "I'm fine. I'm just walking around."

"Isn't it a bit early to be walking around?"

"No, this is my time of the day" Nuo said with a shrug. "It is pretty damn cold though."

"You're time of day?" the voice contemplated. "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?"

"It's obvious. Since you're a prostitute, you get pretty used to dealing with people in the dark."

Nuo became nervous. "Hey, you maybe want to shut your mouth about that kind of stuff? And… how did you know that anyway?"

"Oh, I've been trying to reach you for a while. I like you."

She stared closely into the nearby brush, trying to make out a discernable figure, but saw nothing but darkness.

"Are you… a customer?" she asked nervously, feeling a sense of unease wash over her.

"Yes, I am," said the calming voice. "if you'd take a step over here, maybe you could actually get some money tonight. After seeing you, I'm willing to spend plenty."

Nuo looked up at the comforting light of the lamp. "Why don't you come out here?" she asked. "Maybe you could show yourself before we get the deal going."

"I asked you first," said the voice. Nuo looked around for signs of others. She was alone with the voice.

"Look, I'm just not feeling good about this," she admitted. "If you show yourself, then maybe we can work this out. Unless that happens, then I'm afraid I just can't—"

All at once, the air was knocked out of Nuo's lungs. She gazed down at her stomach; a thick blade was protruding from her gut. Before she could muster the energy to scream, and hand reached out from the darkness, clasped itself over her mouth, and dragged her into the brush. The streetlamp flickered itself out.

It was two in the morning.

* * *

**Note: Sorry for another short chapter again. Luckily, things are starting to heat up, and the real horrors are about to begin. As always, review if you can, and we'll see you soon.**


	7. Interrogation of the Innocent

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

"Ma'am, fighting isn't going to get you anywhere. If you could settle down—"

"Settle down? How am I supposed to settle down? You people _abduct_ me from my home, lock me in this room, and you expect me to be calm!?"

"We just need information. This doesn't have to be—"

"You don't have the right to do this to me! I demand to be released!"

It was a tiring day at the police station, for both the cop and the poor woman he was attempting to reason with. The young woman went by the name Lukara, and though she was acting irrationally, she could hardly be blamed for her behavior. She was the daughter of Kuzo, the wealthy radio host, and the brother of Feng, the petty thief. She wasn't really those things anymore; she didn't have a brother or a father. They were gone, stripped from her life in just a few short days. When she heard of the news, she had locked herself inside her apartment for several days, hiding in her closet like a scared little girl. The only reason she was here now was that the cops had forcefully taken her against her will; she would give anything to return to her home, to the life she used to have. Now, all she could do was wait and beg in the small interrogation room.

Through a one-way mirror, Mako watched intently as the cop failed to extract any useful information. She simply repeated the same phrase over and over again: "Take me home. You're violating my rights." He sighed mournfully; his investigation had reached a standstill. Lukara was his only major lead, and she refused to cooperate. Soon, he would have to let her go, and he would be left with nothing once again.

Lin popped into the room. "Mako, I need a word with you."

"Not now," he said passively. "We're interrogating a prime suspect here."

"Don't you think I know that? Trust me: you need to see this."

Mako shook his head. He made three quick raps on the glass; the blocky man inside looked at the mirror, and quietly walked out of the room. Mako followed Lin to her desk, unamused.

"You know, I think we were actually getting close," he lied.

"No, you weren't," Lin retorted. "She was as close to cracking as a bank vault."

"I don't think cracking her is the problem," said Mako. "She's pretty broken up as it is. But still, we need to get something out of her. She's our clear connection to the crimes."

Lin grabbed a file from her desk, and shoved them into Mako's grasp. "Not anymore," she said regretfully. Mako looked at her quizzically, and then opened up the files. Upon seeing its content, the color drained from his face. There were pictures of a dead woman, her body broken and torn and cut into like meat. Her arm was lying ten feet from the rest of her body, and her neck was broken and cracked sideways.

"What the hell is this?" Mako asked, feeling a pit grow in his stomach.

"It's a disruption," Lin explained. "We ran a background check on her. Her name was Nuo. She was one of the… night workers in the dark heart of the city. Her body was found earlier this morning in the park by a passing jogger. Based on what we could find, she was killed at about two or three in the morning, and left in the brush to rot. We haven't identified what did her in yet, but whatever it was, it doesn't appear to be pretty. Poor girl."

"And you think this is relevant to the Kuzo case?"

"This _is_ the Kuzo case," Lin clarified. She grabbed another photo from the pile, and pointed to its contents. "Look familiar?"

Mako stared at the picture, and his heart empty. It was a photograph of a single character smeared on the ground next to Nuo's head:

_Lustful._

"The killer struck again," Mako said quietly. "And it looks like he has a calling card."

"It appears that way," Lin agreed grimly. "I don't like this at all. Two bloody homicides and a haunting suicide all in a week. We need to step up our game on this. Be glad that your brother isn't getting married for another few months, because you're working overtime until this psychopath is caught, understood?"

"Yes, Chief," Mako said sternly.

"There's only one other problem," Lin sighed. "This new death has left us without a lead. This girl, Nuo… I doubt she has any family or friends to act as witnesses. Considering all of the people she met, I doubt we can find a solid suspect."

"Hopefully, if Lukara talks, we might be able to find something," Mako thought aloud. Lin sneered.

"Don't bother with her. Send her home."

Mako was taken aback. "What do you mean? She could hold precious information."

"She has nothing useful; I can tell just by looking at her," Lin said, leaning against the nearby desk. "So, you should save us the trouble and send us home."

"Chief, I respectfully disagree," Mako said confidently. "She holds the closet viable link with the victims that we have. I know she seems to be distraught now, but if we get her to talk, we could learn insight about the murders of her father and brother."

"About her _father_, maybe," Lin corrected him angrily. "The problem is: this isn't just about her father, is it? It was before, but now, it's the case of a dead hooker left to rot in the park. I'm sure I don't have to remind you, but Lukara and her colleagues are high society types. I doubt they even know what prostitution is. I need a lead that fits the profiles of _both_ victims, so unless she has been living on the street for her entire life, I doubt she can give us a suspect who could have connections to two people on the opposite side of the social spectrum."

"But Chief—"

"Mako, it's final!" Lin said harshly, walking towards Mako and sneering directly in his face. "I have two murders on my hands and a killer on the loose. I don't need you wasting my time with someone who clearly knows nothing that can be of help to us. Besides, she's been through enough as it is; let her go back to her damn peace and quiet."

Lin stormed away. It was only after she left that Mako realized ever eye in the room was focused on him. He looked down and proceeded back to the interrogation room. He felt like an idiot, even though he knew that he was completely justified. He knew he wasn't tracing a pointless lead. Even if there didn't seem to be a connection between Nuo and Kuzo, he had to find something of value. Lukara was hiding something; he could see it in her eyes. He just needed to find out what it was.

The second Mako entered the interrogation room, against his better judgment, he was screamed at.

"No! No more questions!" Lukara yelled. "Send me back home!"

"You're going home," Mako explained, taking a seat across from her. "First, I just want to talk to you."

"I told you people that I don't know anything," said Lukara, on the verge of tears. "If I knew something, then I would tell you."

"I'm not doubting that," Mako said softly. "No one here is convicting you of anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"You think that's all I'm worried about? My dad was _killed_ in his home. Feng was killed. Someone is coming after my family, and all you're doing is drawing more attention to me. He could be anywhere."

"Look, your brother's death was an accident—"

"No, it wasn't!" Lukara proclaimed. "I know my brother. He would never do anything like that. Someone _made_ him do it. Don't you get it? People have hated my family for decades. They've hated our lifestyle for spirits know why. Now, someone is coming after us, and they want to make it look like they're not, but they _are_. But when I say this… no one believes me… and I'm scared and I just want to go home."

Tears flowed freely from Lukara's eyes. She rested her head in her arms, and sobbed quietly to herself. Mako took a deep breath, and leaned in.

"I believe you," he whispered. "I… I was there when Feng died. I saw what happened, and I don't think he stepped into that road willingly."

Lukara peered up from the desk, her eyes glimmering.

"I know you're freaked out right now, but we're here to keep you safe," Mako said softly. "This person who's attacking you're family… he attacked someone else: a young woman named Nuo. This isn't an isolated incident. If we don't find this killer, then everyone in the city could be at risk. We can't let anyone else get hurt because of our inaction. Please, if you have something, anything to tell us, then we need to know it."

Lukara looked away, guilt-ridden. Mako pushed forward; he was getting close.

"Lukara, if you want to make their deaths mean something, then tell us what you know."

"I…" Lukara stammered. "I shouldn't."

"There are lives on the line," Mako emphasized. "What do you know about these killings?"

"N-nothing, really," Lukara explained, raising her head from the desk. "But, I… think my boyfriend might be responsible."

"Your boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend, really. His… his name was Rei. We used to go out a few years back, but we had… cultural differences. He wasn't a fan of a wealthy lifestyle; I ended up following him for a while in the lower urban areas. Eventually, we sort of drifted apart, but he liked to check up on me once a year. He… he used to get into fights all the time. He could get pretty violent, but he never displayed any of that towards me. He's a nice person, deep down. I shouldn't be ratting on him like this; it feels dirty."

"This man, Rei," Mako asked curiously. "He wouldn't have any connection to any gangs or criminal activities, would he?"

"I'm not sure," said Lukara. "But… I suppose, given his background… there's a possibility of it. But I can't say for certain."

Mako let out a sigh of relief. He smiled warmly. "Lukara, thank you for telling me that. I promise that we'll bring whoever's responsible to justice. Now, let's get you home."

Lukara tearfully nodded. Mako helped her to her feet, and quietly walked her out of the interrogation room. He couldn't help but smirk to himself. Thanks to her willingness to speak the truth, he actually had viable information. He was after a man named Rei, hiding somewhere in the slums of the city.

Finally, Mako had a lead.

* * *

**Note: Dear, readers, we request your assistance. We've received a lot of great feedback, which we're really thankful for, but we need your help on deciding where the story goes next (We're split completely down the middle on it). So, tell us what you would prefer to see the story focus on for the next few chapters: the investigation of the vicious killings in Republic City, or the relationships and emotional dilemmas within Team Avatar itself. Comment and let us know, and we'll see you next time.**


	8. Dresses, Drinking, and Regrets

**Note: Well, the people have spoken, and it seems like we'll be spending the focus of the next few chapters on relationships. Thank to everyone who took the time to tell us their thoughts. If you want more mystery, don't worry: it's not going away. We have big plans for that soon, so stay tuned. As always, review if you can; it's very helpful.**

* * *

Korra was in somewhat of a predicament.

It wasn't a predicament that was going to bring about the end of the world. No buildings were in danger of being destroyed. No people were in risk of being lit on fire, or pummeled by boulders, or drowning in a flood. A nation wasn't rising in a totalitarian dictatorship, threating death and destruction wherever they went. The moon was not about to plummet into the Earth. The sun was not going to explode and decimate the solar system. In reality, it was much worse than that.

Korra needed to pick an outfit for the most important date of her life.

This task should not have been difficult at all. Given the turmoil she had faced throughout her life, it seemed like the choice of dress would be entirely inconsequential. Sadly, to Korra, it seemed like the most crucial decision in the world. Picking the correct outfit was essential to maintaining the balance Korra had fought so hard to achieve for four years. She could only imagine the horrified expression on Asami's face if she were to wear the wrong thing. She would be dumped immediately, discarded like a worthless animal, a plaything, a washed-up disgrace of a human being.

The source of the problem was inexperience. Korra had dressed for numerous fancy occasions before. She had a wide variety of clothing to choose from. She really should have known better. Yet, the truth was that she did not know any better. Fashion was not something that she was an expert in; usually, when she had to dress up in something fancy, someone else helped her get ready, someone who had much more experience in the field of eloquence. Plus, there was another wrench in the system.

"Stop by my place at 6:30 sharp," Asami had told her over the phone. "And I mean six _in the morning_, Korra. I have something special planned, so don't be late. Oh, and try not to wear anything too elegant, alright?"

It was the last sentence that was causing so much difficulty. Why wouldn't Asami want her to wear anything elegant? It was going to be their last time together for at least a month, so why would they not celebrate it with something elegant? It was already suspicious enough that she had to arrive at the Sato estate before the sun fully rose in the sky. Korra wasn't an expert on Republic City, but she knew quite well that the best places to have romantic gatherings were only available during the late hours of the night. Surely, Asami must have recognized this, and she also must have known that these places were very high-class establishments. Therefore, either Asami was purposefully avoiding romance and tenderness with every fiber of her being, or she was screwing with Korra's head, and really wanted her to wear something elegant. Korra briefly considered it. Women were complicated beings after all, she figured. Maybe when Asami had said not to wear something elegant, she was speaking sarcastically. Maybe, the true message was lost on her. It now seemed incredibly apparent to Korra that Asami was messing around with her, testing to see if Korra really knew her merits. It was all an elaborate ruse to show the Avatar's weakness, and once that weakness was exposed, Asami would have closed in for the kill.

Korra sighed deeply, and thrust her head into a pillow. She was bewildered, irritated, and felt like everyone was out to sabotage her. And it was all over a stupid outfit.

There was a knock at the door, and before she could speak, a youthful, tattooed face poked its head into the room.

"Hey, you're missing dinner," Jinora stated worriedly. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah… unless you count the fact that my life is about to be ruined," Korra moped. Jinora sighed and stepped into the room. It was shocking to Korra how much she had grown in the past few years, blossoming into a beautiful young woman right before her very eyes. The airbending master took a seat on the bed, and clasped her hands together.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jinora asked sweetly.

"You're not my therapist," said Korra.

"That still doesn't mean I can't help," Jinora said defensively. "Remember that time I helped you fall in love with Mako."

"Remember that time I ended up dating his ex?" Korra retorted. "Besides, you weren't really even all that helpful; Pema gave me all the advice. How did you even know this was a relationship thing, anyway?"

"Because Korra, with you, it's either relationships or tyrants. And last time I checked, the world was at peace."

"Fair point," Korra smirked. "Still, someone with your level of maturity shouldn't be giving advice to anyone. Advice somehow seems more appropriate when it comes from someone with a lot of knowledge and experience."

"Are you trying to suggest that I'm immature?"

"Well… you know… the gathering—"

"Oh, I can't believe that's still an issue!" Jinora screamed, slamming her fists against the mattress. It was an issue that had been bothering her for years, one that no matter how hard she tried to shake off, it stayed attached to her like glue. The "gathering" that Korra was referring to was an incident that occurred two years prior involving a lot of painful mistakes. There had been some sort of formal gathering at Air Temple Island, where many of her family members happened to be gathered for some specific reason she could not remember. At some point, late into the evening, she recalled Kai coming up to her and handing her a glass full of dark liquid. He told her that he had been offered it by a man from the Northern Water Tribe, who claimed that it was an exotic and rare drink meant only to be had on the most special of occasions. Naturally, Jinora—who understood that it was customary to take a drink when offered—gulped down the beverage with her boyfriend, who apparently expected the liquid to be safe and relatively harmless. Afterwards, she couldn't remember a single thing that occurred over the next several hours. Korra eventually told her that several notable diplomats found them both in the bay without tops and making out furiously in a drunken stupor. After that, she was told that she summoned a whirlwind to topple man of the diplomats to the ground, vomited, and broke three tables before finally collapsing and passing out in the middle of the party. Ever since, despite her best efforts, she had earned somewhat of a nasty reputation with her family, particularly with her father. Even though she had done so much to prove that she was worthy of her tattoos, she couldn't get rid of that one, horrible memory.

Jinora groaned. "Fine. If you don't want my help, then I guess I'll just go away."

"No, wait," Korra said quickly. "I really need someone to talk to. Besides, no one really cares about that gathering thing anymore."

"I'll believe that when I'm allowed to babysit again," Jinora muttered under her breath. "So, what's the problem?"

"Well, you know how I have the date with Asami tomorrow?"

"You mean the one you haven't stopped squealing about?"

"Yeah. She told me that I was supposed to wear something that wasn't fancy tomorrow, but if she really loves, she would take me somewhere where dressing fancy would be a requirement. I'm really freaking about it, and I don't know what to do."

Jinora was quiet for a long moment. She stared at the ground, and Korra stared at her, waiting for the wisdom to come pouring out. Instead, Jinora merely burst into laughter.

"That's your dilemma!?" she cired, incredibly delighted. She rolled onto her side, tears streaming from her face. Korra continued to stare at her. Why was she laughing at such a dire, crucial, life-changing problem?

"Hey, cut it out," Korra said quietly. "This is a serious issue."

"There's no issue!" Jinora stated gleefully. "I can't believe you're skipping out on eating because of _this_. If you want some advice, take this: if she says not to wear something fancy, _don't_! Boom, problem solved. Now, let's go eat."

"Oh, I get it," Korra said with a sneer. "Let's laugh at Korra because she wants to make sure the waning time she gets to spend some with someone she loves is absolutely perfect. Let's just mock her for not wanting to mess up a single detail of their night together. It's so funny that Asami had to beg and plead to a total jerk so she could stay in the city a few extra days with someone she cares about. It is so humorous to laugh at their plight. Ha ha ha."

"It's not that," Jinora explained, wiping the moisture from her eyes. "It's just funny because I've never seen anyone care so much about something that matters so little. You're going to get to spend time with Asami after weeks of never shutting up about how much you wanted to do that. Do you think she would even care in the slightest about what you wear, regardless of whether or not it was what she asked for? Doesn't she love you, and not your clothing?"

"Well, of course… if she loved me for what I wear, she would have dumped me years ago," said Korra with a small smile.

"Great," said Jinora, beginning to walk to the door. "Then we've reached a conclusion: no one cares. Now, come outside, eat dinner, and stop obsessing like a maniac."

"Wow, that was some very sage-like advice," Korra said, rolling her eyes.

"Glad I could help," Jinora said, taking the fake compliment in stride. "It's amazing that people treat you like some kind of icon of stability and spirituality over me."

"Probably because I don't drink random glasses of liquid people hand to me without explanation."

"I'm in a good mood, so I'm going to discard that comment. See you at dinner."

Jinora left the room, and Korra smiled as she watched her go. She felt pride swelling in her chest. Jinora had fully become her own woman, striding confidently through the world. It didn't matter that she had made some dumb mistakes in the past; she had matured so much that Korra couldn't help but be happy for her. Korra sat up on her bed, eyeing her useless closet one last time. However, before she could stand, the phone by her bedside began to ring. She picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she said, hoping to hear the sweet voice of her girlfriend on the other side. Instead, there was static.

"Hello?" she asked again. Still, there was no answer, only the crinkling of static on the other end.

With a shrug, she hung up the phone, and left her room, leaving the identity of the mystery caller as a faded memory.


	9. A Day To Be Remembered--Part 1: Morning

The sun was still new when Korra arrived at the Sato Estate. She had always been under the assumption that her driving abilities could not have been any worse, but apparently, she was mistaken. It seemed that being incredibly tired also inhibited her ability to properly steer and maneuver a motorized vehicle. As she barreled her way through the front gates of the mansion and swerved to a stop, she took a moment to look over herself and make sure that she was somewhat decent-looking. After the debacle with Jinora, she had come to the conclusion that her friend was only mostly correct. While it was entirely plausible to assume that Asami cared little about what she wore, she figured it would still be appropriate to dress fancier than normal. It was common courtesy, she figured, walking up to the large doors of the estate.

She knocked on the door thrice, and moments later a short, curious-looking woman answered.

"Yes?" asked the woman, dressed in formal attire.

"Hi," said Korra with a small wave. "I'm—"

"Oh, right. Please come in. Asami will be with you," said the servant. Korra nodded, and awkwardly stepped inside. Even after eight years, something still disturbed her about the notion of servants and butlers. It was a belief she held ever since she was a little girl being constantly guarded over and protected. All that time, she would have given anything just to be able to live. She could only imagine what it must have been like to live in servitude. It must have been a rather horrible way to live. Even though she was certain that Asami was a reasonable employer, the circumstances were probably still unpleasant. It further weirded her out that someone like Asami still bothered actually having servants. Korra liked to think that she knew Asami inside and out; for many years, she was closer to Asami than anyone else on the planet had ever been. Korra knew her quirks, her passions, her phobias, her favorite foods, her eyeshadow color and more off the top of her head. Yet, for the life of her, she could not understand why Asami would continue to treat people as, essentially, slaves.

Korra scoffed at her thoughts as she was led to a living room, and instructed to take a seat on a couch by the short, curious-looking woman. She shrugged the thought away by assuming that it was probably for the best that the servants were where they were. Otherwise, they would be out of work, and that would not benefit anyone. Or, maybe they were so enthralled by Asami's beauty and knowledge, they simply through themselves at the opportunity to serve her. Korra was fond of that last theory, and thought of it to be entirely reasonable.

She perked up upon hearing the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. A calming voice called out to her.

"Korra, you ready to go?"

"That depends," Korra said, hopping to her feet. "You want to tell me where we're headed?"

Asami walked around the corner, her eyes fixated on the floor. "You'll find out soon enough. But I want to—"

Asami looked up at Korra, and instantaneously, her wonderful smile faded away. With a perplexed expression, she eyed Korra up and down, and pursed her lips. "What are you wearing?"

Korra was confused. It wasn't until she examined Asami's clothes that she realized there was a clear miscommunication. Korra had assumed that her clothing had met the requirements of something "not that fancy". Sure, she was wearing a skirt (which she hated) and gold jewelry (which she borrowed from Pema, and also hated), but it wasn't anything she would be comfortable wearing to a five-star restaurant or wedding ceremony. However, much to Korra's surprise, Asami was wearing something remarkably less classy: sweatpants.

"What am I wearing?" Korra asked in rebuttal. "I think you need to look in the mirror."

"I told you not to wear anything fancy," Asami groaned. "You could have just worn what you usually wear."

"If you wanted me to wear that, you should have told me to wear something casual. There's a distinction between 'non-fancy' and 'casual'. When you say 'don't be fancy', it gives off the impression that I need to be formal, but not _that_ formal. You really need to phrase instructions better."

"Great. Just great,' Asami muttered under her breath. "Now we're going to get a late start."

It was with remorse that Asami grabbed onto Korra's wrist and began strongly yanking her throughout her mansion, clutching her so tightly that her fingernails began to imprint themselves on her skin. Despite the Avatar's pleads for forgiveness for a crime she barely knew she committed, Asami continued to drag her in silence. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Korra, Asami was running a tight schedule. It took many hours of precise mathematical calculating to formulate the ultimate romantic event, and Asami was not willing to take any risks. There was an appropriate time and place for randomness in love; this was not one of those times.

Soon, Korra found herself in Asami's bedroom, or at least the one she used most often. It was getting to be a familiar sight for her, as she had spent several long night snuggled up in the silk sheets of the lavish bed. She had also spent several early mornings there, but could not dwell on those thoughts long, as Asami quickly dragged her towards her closet. Opening the door, Asami hurriedly scrounged through her dozens of outfits, as Korra simply stood in the doorway and gazed in silent awe of the room in front of her.

"Do you need this many clothes?" Korra asked, half-jokingly. "I know you're rich, but your closet is bigger than my room."

"No time for observational humor," Asami said dryly. She shoved pants, a shirt, and some boots into Korra's arms, and then pushed her into the closet. "Change," she instructed, closing the door. Korra mused over the baggy, dull garments in her grasp, and rested her head against the door as she began to undress.

"You know, Asami," she said, questioningly. "You seem to be very intent on sucking all of the _fun_ out of this date."

"I'm not sucking it out. The fun is just being… delayed. Now is work time. Hopefully, we can get on our way soon, and we can reach maximum levels of fun later. Nothing but fun, fun, fun."

"I'm sorry, but did I just detect sarcasm in your voice? Because it sounded an awful lot like there was sarcasm in your voice."

"Was there?" Asami asked, stunned. "I'm sorry. There wasn't supposed to be. I'm just getting a little annoyed, that's all."

"Annoyed?" Korra asked, suspiciously. "I've literally been here for two minutes, and all that's happened is that I've taken my clothes off in your bedroom. If you were anyone other than you, you would be ridiculously enthusiastic right now."

"Oh, believe me: I'm enthusiastic," Asami stated, this time intending as much sarcasm as possible. "I just… want to make sure everything goes like it's supposed to. There's a specific schedule we need to adhere to. I spent a long time thinking how to make this day perfect, and I don't want any of it to get screwed up."

Out of nowhere, Korra burst into a fit of giggles. Asami raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

"Déjà vu," Korra explained. "You sound exactly like I did roughly twelve hours ago."

"What were you doing twelve hours ago?"

"Freaking out over what clothes to wear," Korra admitted bashfully. "Seriously, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. The only reason I'm not dead now is because Jinora told me that you wouldn't care about whatever I chose to wore, as long as we got to spend time together." Korra paused for a moment, and snickered. "Actually, given how sore my wrist is, I'd say that she was pretty damn wrong."

Asami brushed off the subtle jab to her heart. "Speaking of which, are you dressed yet? I wasn't kidding about adhering to a schedule. We need all the daylight we can get."

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming," Korra playfully moaned. She emerged from the closet wearing the baggy clothes and an aloof smile on her face. She reminded Asami of a little girl playing dress-up, which was further accentuated by the fact that the clothes were meant for someone ten percent taller and twenty percent skinnier than her. However, for the trek that awaited them, it was absolutely perfect.

"Now that is something much more appropriate," Asami said, nodding in approval.

"I feel like I just rolled out of bed," Korra said, tugging at the dark sweatpants.

"You did just roll out of bed," Asami said knowingly. "You don't usually wake up until an hour from now. I've already packed up stuff in the car. Let's get moving."

"Hold up," Korra stopped her. She gave a smug grin, and held up the arm which Asami brutally tugged on. Rolling back her sleeve, she pointed to the red grip marks on her wrist. "Isn't there something you want to say first?"

Asami sighed. "I'm sorry about hurting your wrist in my schedule-induced frustration. And, I'm also sorry about that passably-sarcastic tone I had, and I'm sorry that I got upset at you. Also, most importantly, I'm sorry that I haven't been more open about our plans today. But, for what it's worth, I think you'll get a lot more enjoyment out of it being a surprise."

"That, I am fine with," Korra said proudly. The truth was that she understood Asami's impatience and secretiveness very well. She was certain that, whatever Asami's methods were, they had the best of intentions behind them. Being scolded by her girlfriend wasn't the best way to start the day, but it was still early in the morning. She knew something spectacular lied in store for her. She had waited weeks for this day; she wasn't going to let it slip by.

Coincidentally, as Asami led her out of her mansion and into the morning sun, Korra thought of another opportunity that she did not want to let slip by.

"Hey, baby," Korra said in the most innocent voice she could muster. "My wrist still _really_ hurts. Do you think that… maybe… you could give it a kiss to make it all better?"

Asami laughed. "Oh, really? I think the Avatar should be able to tough out a little problem like that."

"But it weally stings," Korra pouted, her big, blue eyes wide and child-like. "You wouldn't want to be wude, wight? You want to make sure your Korra-worra is nice and happy?"

"You know, that technique for soliciting kisses gets a lot less adorable the older you get. How old are you again?"

Korra sighed dejectedly. "Ugh… twenty-five."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Asami smirked. The pair arrived at Asami's car, and entered the front seats giggling uncontrollably from Korra's astounding performance.

"Face it though," Korra said, more seriously. "You still had an uncontrollable urge to kiss me right there, didn't you?"

"That's only because I _always_ have an uncontrollable urge to kiss you," Asami stated wholeheartedly. "Don't worry: you'll get kisses later on. You'll just have to earn them."

"Well, with the lips of Asami Sato as incentive, I don't think there's anything I won't be able to do," Korra said confidently, resting her hands behind her head. Asami smirked at the compliment. It made her feel almost like a queen, having someone treat her in such a high regard. Of course, she felt the same about her lover as well; she simply didn't feel inclined to share that information at that very moment.

"So, are we about to start our road to maximum fun?" Korra asked expectantly.

"Oh, Korra," Asami teased, revving up the engine. "You don't even know the half of it."

* * *

Sy loved coffee. It was fair to say that Sy loved coffee more than anything or anyone on the planet. If she could, she would devote her entire life to the majestic substance. She would swear her allegiance to coffee; she would defend coffee until her death and fight many wars for coffee's honor. She held a deep, spiritual connection to her coffee, and had never gone a single day where she did not down at least one cup.

The coffee shop in which she sat was like a second home to her. She had gone there with Mako more times than she could remember, and today, she continued that tradition. Sitting in the small, well-lit corner of the shop, the pair sat in relative silence. This was immediately alarming to Mako, because silence was not something that Sy conceptually understood. What was also alarming was that Sy had never taken a single sip of her coffee. She merely held it in front of her with shaky hands, staring at the dark mixture within. Further, she was much paler than usual, and her trademark smile was seemingly absent. Heavy bags were under her eyes from several restless nights.

"Are you feeling well?" Mako asked, concerned. "You don't look so good."

"Oh no, I'm fine," Sy said quietly. "I'm just a bit distracted by… you know… watching someone get blown up in front of me."

"Yeah… I can imagine that can cause some problems," Mako said somberly.

"You should know. You saw it too."

"Everyone reacts differently. I'm on the force, so violence is commonplace. You're not used to seeing things so… _graphic_." Worriedly, Mako pressed forward. "How have you been managing to hold up?"

"I don't know," Sy shrugged. "I guess it depends on what you'd consider 'holding up' to be."

"Have you been eating? Sleeping? Staying positive?"

"Look at me, Mako," Sy moaned. "Do I _look_ like I've been eating, sleeping, or staying positive?"

Mako did not respond. The morning sunlight reflected off of the sheen of Sy's white hair, illuminating her like a fallen angel. After a minute of silence, Sy spoke up.

"So, does that make two?"

"Two what?"

"Two times you've seen someone being mutilated right before your very eyes?" Sy asked morbidly. "You look like you're holding up pretty well this time. Maybe it's just one of those things that get easier to deal with the more you see it."

"Believe me, it isn't," Mako sighed.

"It sure looks that way, though," Sy explained. "I mean, the last time this happened, you were reduced to a quivering, pathetic mess… even more than usual."

Mako smirked. "I guess you're not as traumatized as I thought if you can still manage to insult me."

"I thought I was supposed to stay positive?"

"Negativity for you _is_ staying positive."

"Oh wow, what a tremendous compliment," Sy joked dryly, barely managing to crack a smile. "Nothing lightens up a person's spirit like telling them that they are depressing to be around."

"Take it in stride. It hopefully means that you are recovering. Soon, you might actually want to drink coffee again."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Sy, staring longingly at the cup in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to swallow the cup's worth in a single gulp, to feel the delicious flavor swirl around her tongue and wash down her throat. Unfortunately, she was still not in the mood for indulging herself. The time would come soon enough.

"So, this stakeout of yours…" asked Sy. "You think you might have found the killer?"

"If my hunch is correct, then yes," Mako stated. "We've tracked down a restaurant he routinely visits. Chen and I are headed out tonight to scope the place out. If this guy tries to make a move, we'll be on him."

"Just, be careful okay," Sy said softly. "Don't get yourself run over by a car."

"Hey, I'll be alright," Mako said, placing his hand on top of Sy's. "Don't worry about me. I can handle pretty much anything this coward throws at me. And afterwards, if we manage to catch this guy, I'll be open to finally meeting your parents."

"Do you really mean that?" Sy asked, suddenly full of hope.

"Sincerely," said Mako. Sy smiled happily, and in victory, took a sip of her coffee. It tasted like jubilation.

"That will be absolutely perfect," said Sy merrily. "You'll celebrate stopping a murderer by getting murdered by my father. What a spectacular irony."

* * *

**Note: Sorry about the long wait between chapters. Life has been keeping us busy. This will be the first of a three-part finale to what we consider the first major act of our story. As always, review if you can, and we'll be back with the second-part soon.**


	10. A Day To Be Remembered--Part 2: Evening

**Note: Sorry for the long delay between uploads. We've been a bit distracted lately, but we have returned. This is the second part of this three-part chapter that will cap off the first third of the story. We believe that we have something very special in store for then, so stay tuned; we can guarantee that it will completely change the status-quo from here on out. In the meantime, feel free to comment, critique, and enjoy.**

* * *

Korra was slowly losing faith in Asami. Her dazzling companion, as she was in the process of learning, had horrible navigational skills. They had been driving for two hours straight, and had left the urban area of Republic City long ago. All she could see, as she looked around every which way, was the dull tan color of mountains.

"Are you sure you're on the right track?" she asked curiously. "I think you missed your turn roughly twenty miles ago."

"I know where I'm going," Asami said with a smirk. "We're almost there. Have a little trust in me."

"It's not the trust I'm worried about. It's your sense of direction."

"Well, would you prefer to drive?" Asami asked inquisitively.

"Hehe… no, thank you," said Korra sheepishly. "I think we both know who the superior driver is here."

"Good point," nodded Asami. "I might as well have just committed suicide."

"Hey…"

"Come on, you know I only tease because I love."

"Well, you could put a little more emphasis on the love."

"Sorry," Asami said with a giggle. She treated the comment with jest, although a small twang of guilt stung beneath the surface. Korra had a good sense of humor, she figured. Surely, she figured out that she was merely telling a joke. Still, she felt uncomfortable about her words and opted to remain silent throughout the rest of the drive.

For the next hour and a half, Korra found numerous ways to occupy her time. She glared out her window and studied the various fauna she passed by. She hummed the tune of a catchy song she had heard on the radio that morning, even though she was not a particular fan of it. Most importantly, she tried to figure out why she was wearing such bizarre clothing, and whether or not Asami had taken her out into the wilderness to execute her. Despite these tantalizing thoughts, the boredom crept through her, threatening to break her apart.

Then, when all hope seemed lost, something truly miraculous happened: they stopped.

"We're finally here," Asami said joyously, breathing a sigh of relief. She stretched her tired arms and legs, glad to be able to move again. The women stepped out of the car, and Korra looked around. She had no idea what Asami was talking about; she was surrounded by the same tan mountains that she had seen for the past three and a half hours. That did not stop Asami from hurrying to the trunk and pulling out two great backpacks and a large canteen of water.

"We're a bit late," Asami said happily, oblivious of the puzzled look she was receiving. "Still, we should be able to make good progress if we move briskly."

"You want to slow down there?" Korra asked, crossing her arms. "We are miles away from civilization, I don't know what's in those bags, and I still have no clue how this is supposed to be romantic."

Asami smirked, and tossed a bag towards Korra, who was taken aback by its weight. It had to weigh at least twenty pounds, yet Asami was slinging it about like it was nothing, almost as if she was accustomed to its heftiness (or, she had been working out, which was also a very pleasant thought).

"What did we do when we first started dating?" Asami asked excitedly.

"Vacation in the Spirit World?" Korra answered.

"Exactly," said Asami. She walked over to her lover, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I wanted this to day to be special, so I figured: why don't we do something like we used to all those years ago?"

"You mean… visit the Spirit World?"

"No. More specific."

"Well, what kind of specific?" asked Korra. "Because we did a lot of things in the Spirit World; we were there for a month. Do you mean the dealing with the huge carnivorous flower? Sleeping in the meadow? Swimming in the waterfall? Everything _else_ in the waterfall, because I don't think there's a waterfall anywhere out here, and even if there was I doubt you would want me wearing _this_."

"Too specific," Asami groaned. "I meant walking, actually."

"Oh," Korra said with a frown. "That's not nearly as fun as that waterfall."

"Keep your hopes up," Asami stated playfully. She pointed up to a mountaintop a mile away and several hundred yards in the air. Korra could see a narrow trail winding around the base of the rocky terrain, eventually leveling out into a small plateau near the top. "See that peak? I found that spot last year when I was testing out your Phosphorescent Particles, just in case they turned out to be highly volatile. As it turns out, there is an incredible view of the stars up there, much better than anything you would get in the city."

"Asami," Korra said inquisitively, "Are we going to hike to the top of a mountain together?"

"Now you're catching on," Asami nodded. "If we hurry, we should get there by nightfall."

"You know, I can just create an elevator and get us up there in, roughly, fifteen minutes, right?"

"Did you ever use earthbending in the Spirit World?"

Korra sighed as if she was a child accepting a time-out. "No, ma'am."

"Then we're walking," Asami said firmly. She gave Korra a peck on the cheek, and then began walking away from the car and towards the very, very tall mountain. Korra looked up at the peak, and then down at herself. At the very least, she could rest with the knowledge that she wasn't going to be betrayed. Unfortunately, she also had to deal with the knowledge that, most likely, there was no waterfall anywhere in the vicinity.

* * *

While for some this day held great value, to the young, jubilant mind of Masaki Sugiyama, everything was the same as it always had been. He stood alone in the park, staring wistfully at the statue of the Avatar as if it might suddenly spring to life. It filled him with pride knowing that, unlike many of the sad, desperate creatures around him, he had been given the honor of meeting the incredible woman in person. And, not only did he speak directly to her, but he managed to acquire some interesting, first-hand information about her life. The way she ate, the way she lived, the way she treated others; it was all a very fascinating subject to him. The Avatar was someone with more power than any other living creature alive, yet it seemed that no one but him was interested in the enigma of how one can survive with that much power. It was a peculiar truth that he could hardly comprehend. Out of the millions of people in the world, he was the only one who seemed to care. For that reason alone, Masaki felt like it was his duty to learn as much as possible; if he would not learn, then who else would? Staring at the stone art in front of him, Masaki felt a small surge of pride.

He got to talk to the _Avatar_.

Then, there was a bump, and Masaki felt himself nearly get shoved over. Once he steadied himself, he glared angrily at his attacker. The man who was strolling by and so rudely interrupted his thought process turned around, looming over Masaki's meek form. His head was shaved and he stared down at the child with bitterness and neglect. Masaki looked up at the man for a moment with large, blank eyes, and then, in only a moment, a stark grin spread across his cheeks.

"Hey," he said with discontent. "You bumped into me. That wasn't very nice."

"So," growled the man, "you gonna complain about it, kid?"

"You should apologize to me," claimed Masaki. "That's the fair thing to do."

"The world ain't fair, sport," moaned the irritated man. Masaki could plainly see that he had gone several long nights without rest. "Why don't you just run home to your parents?"

"Why don't you just apologize?" Masaki retorted. He leaned forward, his white teeth directed at the man as if he was about to leap forward and bite his head off. However, he quickly stood up straight, and stuck out a hand. "My name is Masaki. What's your name?"

The man sighed. "Name's Rei, kid. Now leave me alone—"

"Wait," said Masaki hurriedly. "We don't have to be mad at each other. Why don't we be friends? I like making new friends. Just last week, I became friends with the Avatar, so I don't see why it isn't possible to become friends with you."

Rei looked at the child through a haze. Despite the somewhat creepy smile, he could detect the faint presence of child-like innocence seeping out of him. Still, Rei had enough problems on his hands, and going out of his way to talk to a child wasn't going to help him with anything.

"Sorry, Masaki," he said coldly. "I have places to be. Maybe some other time." Rei turned away, and began to walk from the statue, when Masaki's youthful voice suddenly called out:

"You should try doing something fun tonight other than getting drunk," said Masaki through his ever-present smile. "I think it will really help you with… whatever you need help with."

Rei stopped momentarily, and then continued on his way. He walked far away from Masaki and the statute of the Avatar, far away from the park, far away from the heavy nightlife. On this night, he needed his fill. There were many places to buy good drinks in Republic City, but he was falling on hard times, and unfortunately, those places were far too expensive for him. Luckily, he had found a loophole of some sort. There was a small market that sold good liquor for a tenth of the price near Shepard's Way, or as he and many others used to know it as, Jackdaw's Den. The wise had learned long ago to stay far away from the Den, and the desperate had long ago learned to seek refuge there for quick fixes.

After waling over a mile, Rei came to the small market. Passing over a passed-out homeless man asleep at the doorstep, he entered the building, completely oblivious of the two cops watching his movements.

"That's the guy?" Chen asked nervously.

"Yeah… Lukara's washed-out boyfriend," Mako stated.

"Looks tough," said Chen, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "In fact, this whole neighborhood looks tough. Are you sure he didn't notice us?"

"He probably would have run if he did," Mako explained. "We've got him cornered now. It doesn't matter. Now, all we have to do is: wait."

"How long?"

"Who knows?" Mako said honestly. "Could be a few minutes. Could be hours. All that I know is that whatever happens, we are going to get some answers tonight, whether he complies or not."

"And say he doesn't want to comply?" asked Chen, already dreading the answer.

"Well," Mako shrugged, "at least you'll finally get some more in-field experience, right?"


	11. A Day To Be Remembered--Part 3: Night

**Note: We deeply apologize for the long wait. We had to do rewrites on this chapter four times before we made something we were proud of. As we said before, this is going to be the last chapter before we go on haitus for the summer. Since this is the last time we will be updating for a while, we just wanted to take this time to thank each and every one of you who has been following the story since we started several months ago. Honestly, this entire concept was written on a whim after we saw the series finale, and we are in awe of how people have taken to it so lovingly. You are the best readers we could ever ask for, and as long as you are interested in reading, we'll be around to write. This marks what is roughly the one-third mark of our story, so please, tell us what you've thought of everything so far? What do you want to see next? Please, leave your comments or questions below; we really appreciate it. As always, enjoy, and so long for now.**

* * *

Korra had lost track of the time several hours ago. The time passed by in a haze; before she knew it, the sun had fallen beneath the looming horizon, darkening the sky. Her muscles ached from non-stop climbing, and it took her longer than she wanted to recover her breath. She thought she would be fit enough for any endeavor. Apparently, all it took was an unnaturally tall mountain to push her to her breaking point. She would have to work harder when she had the time. The work, in her opinion, was almost not worth the reward. She had gotten to spend time with Asami, but they never really talked when scaling the face of the mountain. Occasionally, they would share sips of water, or exchange protein bars, or Asami would get annoyed and tell Korra to stop using her earthbending to make the climb easier.

Still, Korra did have to admit one thing: the stars really were beautiful on this night.

The plateau which broke off from the mountain was larger than Korra could tell from the ground; it was roughly the size of her bedroom. It hardly mattered, as she and Asami lied so close to each other that they needed one-sixth of the space provided. There was not a single sound that reached them so high up. They were alone with nothing but each other's warmth, and each other's comfort.

"This is actually sort of… nice," Korra said to herself, gazing at the perfect view above her head.

"I told you that the climb would be worth it," said Asami knowingly. "I just wish we could have gotten here sooner. The sunset looks incredible from this high up."

"You should have let me earthbend. We would have made it up here in time."

"Oh, come on," Asami teased. "Don't tell me the climb wasn't _somewhat_ fun."

"No, actually. It wasn't'," Korra said with a smirk. "It was long, tedious and sweaty. Sweaty isn't a good word you want to use to describe a date."

"You are such a pessimist," Asami moaned, sitting up to stretch her tired arms.

"I'm not pessimistic. I can focus on plenty good things in life. Like… you look really good tonight, almost like you didn't climb a long, tedious, sweaty mountain."

"Thank you," Asami said with not an ounce of sarcasm. She gazed out at the horizon, at the endless ocean of stars. Korra squirmed next to her, trying to find a comfortable position on the rocks. It had crossed Korra's mind to use Asami as a pillow. Long ago, Korra had tested her theory that Asami would make a comfortable human pillow, and she found the results to be more than satisfactory. She would probably state that it was the closest she ever got to prove a legitimate, scientific hypothesis, a statement that would undoubtedly make her girlfriend feel proud. Unfortunately, the "human pillow" concept really only worked if Asami herself had something soft to lay on, specifically a bed. Otherwise, it would merely be symbiotic, and Korra did not feel like sinking herself to that level on such an important date night.

"So…" Korra wondered, "How did you find this place?"

"I told you," said Asami. "I used this place as a test site for the Portable Luminescence device."

"I got that," said Korra. "I mean, why here? Why pick someplace so far away from the city?"

"Well," Asami explained. "There were a lot of reasons. The actual machine was never meant to become a visual display. It actually started out as one of the booster-designs for the project Varrick and I are working on. However, there was a small problem with the core. It radiated so much raw energy that steel exposed to it would actually melt within seconds."

"That doesn't sound like a small problem," Korra said with suspicion. "That kind of sound like a laser beam of pure death."

"Yeah… sort of," Asami shrugged sheepishly. She spoke softly, "Still, even though the design certainly wasn't suitable for any high-stress use, I hated to see it go to waste. So, I took it all the way out here, right to this very spot, to tinker on it. Of course, the reason I had to drag this thing all the way out here was because the core wasn't necessarily going to be stable while I worked on it. I ran through the math a few dozen times, and I was pretty certain that this would be the furthest out I needed to go to absolutely guarantee the city safety if—spirits forbid—the core exploded. I never actually thought about what I would make it into until I looked out and saw the stars. They're just so… beautiful. So warm. Each of them bundled closely together while being hundreds of thousands of miles apart. It's almost hard to think of—"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Korra said hurriedly. She propped herself up on her elbows, and shot Asami a quizzical glare. "I think I misheard you for a second. When you said, 'the city', did you mean _Republic City_?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess."

"Asami," Korra said, stunned, "We're… we're fifty miles away from Republic City."

"Yes."

Korra shook her head. Clearly, Asami was missing the point. "Asami… are you telling me that… if that bomb went off… this is the _closest_ you would get without endangering Republic City… which is fifty miles away."

Asami nervously smiled. "Well, I mean, those were my worst calculations. Realistically, I could have gotten well within ten miles and everyone would be alright."

"I'm sorry but… what kind of crazy, apocalyptic device is sitting in my bedroom right now!?"

Korra stared at Asami in the most passively aggressive, confused way she had ever known. It was such an adorable sight that all Asami could do was smile and explain herself.

"You are thinking way too far into this," Asami assured.

"And you were way too calm while talking about how you built a bomb that could blow up the planet," Korra said, flabbergasted. The strange thing was: she wasn't even mad at this revelation. She was half-smiling herself, and she had not the slightest clue why.

"It wouldn't blow up the planet! The world is nearly eight thousand miles across. Mostly everyone would be alright. Besides, when I said it could blow up, that would only be if some idiot started ripping out wires and touching things he shouldn't. I knew exactly what I was doing. It was essentially a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of everything turning out alright, which it did. Everything is perfectly stable now. I wouldn't even _dream_ of giving you something that I thought would be remotely harmful."

Korra groaned. This was becoming too much for her to comprehend. "So… you decided to tamper with a device in the middle of nowhere—knowing full-well that if something went horribly wrong, you and everything in a fifty mile radius would be vaporized—just to give me a neat birthday present… which, for the record, I didn't even need from you!"

Asami opened her mouth to either defend herself or burst out laughing, but couldn't muster the strength to do either. She merely turned her back to her girlfriend, and watched the stars as her jaw hung open in amazement. Korra collapsed, feeling all sanity lift from her body. She lived in an insane world.

"Unbelievable," she muttered to herself. "Un-freaking-believable. I ask for some jewelry, she gives me a weapon of mass destruction."

"Korra," Asami said through the urge to laugh. "It's not… oh, forget it. It's not that important."

"How can you say it's not that important? You nearly blew up half of the world just to get me something for my birthday. You could have at least _mentioned_ that when you gave it to me."

"For the record, I honestly never thought it was that big of a deal. I never saw a reason to tell you."

"You never thought of a reason to tell me that you risked your life?" Korra asked, her shock/joy/confusion winding down. "I don't mind you trying to hide it from me because it makes you seem like a mad scientist, which you _are_. I just wished you let me know when you did something dangerous on my behalf."

"It wasn't dangerous," Asami insisted. "And besides… this was the absolute least I could do for you."

"Capturing the power of the sun in a bottle was the least you could do for me?"

"Well… yeah, actually," Asami said sincerely. The humor of the situation had subsided somewhat. She stared off at the stars, beautiful and eternal. They were the same as they were weeks ago when she sat on this same plateau, carefully fixing and adjusting a machine that could end her life in the blink of an eye. The stars weren't just a guideline; they were her only source of comfort on the tall mountain, away from all other smiling faces and pleasantries.

Asami told Korra that she was ninety-nine point nine percent certain that she wasn't going to die that lonely night. The truth was that Asami was almost certain of the opposite. Well, not nearly the opposite; she actually thought her chances of living and dying were equal. She was a talented engineer, but at some point during the night, when the only source of light came from the dying embers of a fire and a waning moon, she realized that she was in over her head. She knew it would have had to happen at some point; eventually she would reach a point where the slightest incorrect action could lead to her immediate and violent end. That "point" lasted for half an hour. On that night, for thirty straight minutes, Asami felt like she was about to _die_. She didn't feel like there was merely a strong chance of her dying; she honestly felt like every breath she took would be her last.

So why did she stay? What was the point of her dying then and there? She juggled the question often during those very long thirty minutes. It would be easy to simply climb down the mountain, drive home, and forget that anything every happened. She could have easily left the device alone in the mountains away from civilization, away from the people it could harm. Yet, no matter how close death came to her, she would not leave. No matter how much she wished to see the sunlight, something deep inside of her kept her alone on the mountain. During those thirty minutes, Asami Sato had questioned herself as to why she would be willing to die at that moment. By the time those thirty minutes had expired, she was fairly certain that she knew the answer.

"Korra, I never really talked about my mom before, have I?" she said suddenly.

"Your mom?" asked Korra, raising an eyebrow. "You never bring up your parents. Hell, it was one of the first things we agreed upon after we started dating: we don't talk about things that hurt us." Then, in a split second, Korra felt very uneasy. "Asami… are you about to talk about something depressing? Because I really don't want this date to dip into something depressing."

"I'm not trying to be depressing," Asami said uneasily. Korra knew her too well; the Avatar was already dreading their conversation, which did not make things any easier. "I just… I just need to talk for a minute."

Korra groaned. "Is this why you really brought me up here? So we could talk about our feelings? I thought this was supposed to be a fun night out."

"Korra, can I talk first before you jump to conclusions?"

"It's not that hard to jump to conclusions, Sato," Korra stated. "You've only mentioned you mom around me about five times since I've met you, and every time, it always ends with you in tears… and I _hate_ seeing you in tears."

Korra sighed, and looked at Asami, who still refused to face her. She gently reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"How about, whatever this conversation is, we ditch it and save it for later, okay? Why don't we talk about things we love, like food, or music, engineering, or—"

"Korra, _shut up_."

And then, just like that, everything became still. Korra released her grip instinctually. Asami occasionally got upset at people for doing something idiotic; Korra herself was a victim of this. Yet, even during those times, it always seemed like she was a heartbeat away from forgiveness. It was in her nature to be kind to others, and even as she slipped and stalled, her morals always held true. But here, for a moment, Korra heard things in Asami's voice that were completely alien: loathing, disgust, and most prominently, pain.

"I'm sorry," the young engineer said quietly. "But this… this all feels wrong. I've been thinking _a lot _over the past few days. You know, about us, and everything I've been doing for the past few years. And every time I start thinking, I always start feeling like something isn't right. I keep getting overwhelmed by guilt, and remorse, and I think… I think I'm a horrible person."

"Asami, you're not—"

"Let me finish," Asami said sternly. Korra responded with silence. "Look, a long time ago, my mom used to… read me stories before I went to bed. She used to do this thing where she—it's hard to explain—she used to tell me about her friends, or people she had just met that day, and her experiences with them. Maybe it was just her way of letting off some steam from working all day with my dad, but I was just glad to spend time with her."

She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She rubbed her eyes, brushing away any hint of sadness buried within them.

"Every night, she tried to teach me morals. Share with others, make lots of friends, be creative—things that everyone else around me seemed to have forgotten in their lives. The butlers and the teachers and the servants treated me like I was just some spoiled kid. My mom was one of the few people who I knew that I actually felt like I could talk to about how I felt. I _still_ barely feel like I can really open up to people. But with her, I felt like I actually had a friend. She treated me like a real person. I always tried to do my best to make her proud; it was the least I could do to thank her for actually giving me love. And then, before, she was gone and…"

"You two were really close," said Korra, who sat up and gently wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders. "I know it must have been hard then, but you do have _me_ now, you know? I'm always here to help you."

Asami sighed, and then shrugged the muscular limbs away from her body. She clenched a fist. "I know… that's the problem. It seems like every single time I screw up, or act selfishly, or treat you wrong, you just turn around and support me. For all of the times that I let you down, you keep trying to treat me like I'm something special."

"Because you _are_ special," Korra said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Yet, before she could even finish speaking, Asami shoved her away ground her teeth. Her anger was slipping out of control as she continued to speak.

"Really?" she snapped. "Let's go back and take a look at the evidence. I spend most of my time halfway across the world, I refuse to let you live with me even though I _know_ that you're struggling to get a place of your own, I keep making up crappy excuses to keep our relationship hidden from the public, even though I'm sure _no one_ would care, I hide my personal plans from you and even make plans to leave you alone right after I arrive, I put my own needs far ahead of yours, and every time I'm around you, all I do is push you away! I mean… what the hell is _wrong_ with me? You're you, and I'm just me, and I treat you like dirt."

"Are you done?"

"No! I'm not, and I can't believe how freakishly calm you're being right now!" Asami said, all semblance of peace wiped from her pained face. She had worked herself into a frenzy; she forcefully brushed the moisture from her eyes with one palm, breathing heavily as Korra sat back and watched. "Back then, when my mom was taken from me, I felt myself falling apart, descending into this dark, empty _pit_. I nearly lost every ounce of the person I was. I could barely function. And when my father died, I could feel that same darkness creeping back up on me, swallowing me, consuming me. Hell, when I lost you… for those _fifteen minutes_ you were gone… those _damn_ fifteen minutes… I couldn't _feel_ myself anymore. I couldn't feel myself breathing, walking, standing, living, it… I felt _dead_. And even after that, even after I knew you were safe, I still felt like I was empty, like a piece of me was still gone, like I had forever accepted your mortality and moved on and… and having to sit through that damn wedding… having to smile and pretend like I wasn't being eaten up inside… having to talk to people like it was the happiest thing to ever be, and…"

Asami looked away, ashamed at the blubbering mess she had become.

"And you _saved_ me. You actually let me get out of there… gave me time to breathe, to think. You actually made me feel like a person again. You stopped me from regressing completely. And what did I do? I never thanked you. I never repaid you. All I did was treat you only a fraction of the way you deserved to be treated. As if you didn't deserve to be treated well enough already for, you know, saving the freaking world… again."

"So what?" Korra asked, remaining calm. "You want me stop treating you well?"

"I _want_ you to get angry!" Asami said harshly. "I want you to stop forgiving me when I shouldn't be! I want you to stop having to make sacrifices for _my _shortcomings and treating me like I'm not _worthless_ to you! I want you to put me in my place! I want you threaten to break up with me if I don't change! I mean, the last time we had this talk, you practically _hugged_ me into submission! I'd rather be punched in the face than watch you lower yourself to make me feel better like that! I want you to stop acting like everything is okay when we both know it isn't!"

Asami's breathing had significantly increased by the time she finished. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she could feel the sweat running down her brow. She had been storing her self-loathing for months, letting it corrupt her conscience and eat at her heart. And now, once it had all been expunged, she only felt worse. Korra had yet to say anything, and suddenly, a dreadful thought came to mind: she might have just made everything worse. She might have said too much too quickly. She might have destroyed her own image, her own personality in the eyes of the one person with whom she felt truly comfortable.

But then, Korra let out a deep sigh, and her blue eyes met with Asami's in one of the most serious glares she had ever given. "You know what, Asami?" she said coldly. "I _am_ angry at you. I am angry that you constantly push me away. I am angry that we haven't pushed our relationship forward. I am angry that you try to keep us a secret from everyone outside your closest circle of friends." She paused for a moment to recollect her thoughts. "But you know what else? I think the thing that I'm _really_ angry at is seeing how much you've let all this "indebted" bullshit get the best of you."

"Korr—"

"No, now _I_ get to speak," Korra said firmly. "I don't care what kind of shit you think I did to help you cope with your life. I don't care about what kind of horrible things you think you are. You don't have the _right_ to tell me how to feel about our relationship, and you especially don't have the right to tell me that you think you're worthless. If I thought I shouldn't be with you, I wouldn't be. If I thought forgiving you for your mistakes was impossible, I would have left a long time ago. Because you see, Asami, that's kind of what being in a relationship is supposed to be like; we forgive each other for our mistakes. We're supposed to support each other no matter what may happen, because we genuinely and legitimately _care_ about each other. Please, don't act like you've done nothing, because we both know that without you, I wouldn't exactly _be_ here right now, would I? In case you forgot, I didn't have the time of my life either these past few years. You were surrounded by our friends; back in the Southern Water Tribe, I was alone, _stranded_. If I knew you weren't there talking to me, I probably would have lost my fucking mind."

"Yeah, I wrote to you, and that did what?" Asami questioned, her breathing calmed to a slower rhythm. "My letters didn't fix your legs. My letters didn't stop you from leaving us. I… I should have come with you. I should have been there for you like an actual friend."

"My actual _friend_," Korra corrected, "Would have kept in touch with me even after I practically vanished for years. She would have kept in touch and made me feel like I wasn't abandoned. She would have done everything she thought was right to make sure I felt like I was still important to her, and I don't have a single doubt in my mind that she did just that. Look, maybe it would have been better if you did come along. Maybe things would have moved faster between us. It doesn't matter what could have happened though, because in the end, I still ended up where I was supposed to: with _you_. Because I _love_ you, Asami; and no matter how many mistakes we end up making, I will _never_ abandon you. I've loved you before I ever felt like I was indebted to you… and I would like to think that you feel the same way towards me."

And then, just like that, everything became still. And the wind stopped blowing. And the stars hung quiet in the sky. And every second that passed felt like an eternity. And when the last words were said, and the clock ticked forward for an endless time, and every last feeling of guilt had been washed away, Asami rolled over and collapsed into Korra's lap, where two arms were waiting to hold her.

"I'd… I'd like that too," she said softly, brushing her face clean of any unwanted tears. "I just… I just want to make you happy."

"Well, for starters, crying in the middle of our 'super-fun' date would be pretty helpful."

"Yeah. Gotcha," Asami said as a tiny smile made its way onto her face. "But, from now on, you are my top priority. The second I get back, I am going to smother the crap out of you. Or, actually… since this place is so beautiful, and we're already here—"

"I don't know the names of the planets."

"Hmm?"

"I don't know what the names of the planet in our solar system are," Korra stated once again. "We need to get your mind off of all this depressing stuff and I also need to remind you how big of an idiot you decided to devote four years of your life to. So, I have no idea what any of the other planets are named."

"You're not an idiot. You're perfect," Asami said reassuringly. However, she raised an eyebrow. "But, uh… why don't you know the names of the planets? That was one of the first things we were ever taught in school."

"It probably was, but I didn't exactly go to school," Korra stated. "I mean, I have the basics down, and I can add or subtract things, but astronomy was pretty much skipped over to make room for shooting fire at people. I guess they just never thought it had any relevance since they don't really have an effect on my bending or the Spirit World."

"Still, no one told you them at any point in your life?"

"Well, it's not something people tend to bring up in casual conversation. Besides, what am I supposed to tell people? Even telling you this right now makes me feel like an idiot."

"You're _not_ an idiot," Asami repeated. "Given everything else you know, it's perfectly understandable that you don't know these kinds of things. Here…"

Asami pointed her finger to the sky towards one particularly bright, shiny star, thirty degrees above the horizon. She recalled every fact she could about the large object: its name was "L u", it was the fifth planet from the sun and the largest, it took nearly a dozen years for it to complete one single revolution, and it was orbited by at least thirty or so moons, probably more. Asami pointed to each planet she could find and described it in as much detail as she could; if the planet was too far away to see, then she pointed to where it should have been during its orbital year. Korra followed her silently, picking up as much information as she could without it passing by in a blur. It was almost too large to comprehend. She could gaze at the stars for hours, and only pick up the light from less than a trillionth of a percent of the stars that had ever existed. On Earth, she was all-powerful, but out there, in the cold void of nothing that made up reality, she was inconsequentially, pathetically small.

"And that's that," Asami finished. "That's every planet in the solar system, at least that we know about. Do you need me to go over anything again? Uh, Korra? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," Korra said in a daze. "It's just… everything is so _big_. It's kind of humbling. I mean, each of those planets is millions of miles away from us. And each of those stars is even further."

"Yeah, that's the universe for you," Asami nodded. "A big, scary place of endless possibilities. And here we are, right smack in the middle of it."

"Hey, Asami? Do you ever think someone will ever travel to the moon, or another planet?"

"I don't see why not. It might take a while, but if we can build a giant titanium robot, I can't see why we can't actually leave the atmosphere. That would be the greatest scientific achievement of our species."

"Well, you better get started on that," Korra teased. "You're the one who built the megaton bomb."

"I didn't build a megaton… ugh, never mind," Asami groaned.

"You know what would be really crazy, though," Korra said with a grin. "If we went to another planet, and there was another form of life already there, and they also had their own styles of bending and their own Avatar."

"Oh please no," Asami giggled. "I don't think I could handle two of you."

"Well, I'm sure there would be another Asami there also," Korra stated matter-of-factually. She had only learned the names of the planets less than a minute ago, yet she felt confident in her assertions. Not only was she rather confident that there was a second Avatar somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, but she was positive that this second Avatar would most likely be nearly identical to her in every way, almost like a parallel version.

But then, her mind began to unravel.

"Hold on a second," she said, sitting up and lightly pushing Asami off of her lap. "If there's a second Avatar, would that mean we bend the same elements? Do the same elements even exist on other planets? What if the world is made up of noxious materials? If I was to go there, would I adapt to only bend the other elements there, or would I just be unable to bend anything? What if I went there and I went into the Spirit World? Would I still enter the same Spirit World, or is there an entirely different Spirit World for each different planet? If it's the same, then wouldn't there be the possibility of me accidentally running into a second Avatar if we both enter the Spirit World at the same time? How big is the Spirit World anyway? Does it have its own solar system with its own planets? What if the Spirit World _is_ a different planet? Would that mean that if I went to another planet and tried going into the Spirit World, I would just come right back out into the Physical World but as, like, a ghost? Or what if I went to the Spirit World on Earth, then traveled to another planet's Spirit World, and came out of the Spirit World? Would I come back on Earth or on another planet? Or what if—"

"Korra," Asami said, interrupting her train of thought. "Please, for the love of all that's good… don't go into space."

Korra slammed back into the ground, her brain fried. Everything she thought she knew about the universe had disappeared just as fast as she had learned it. Maybe she wasn't suited for this "astronomy" thing after all. Being the Avatar of this world would have to do for now. Sensing her frustration, Asami crawled over and snuggled up beside her.

"Hey, let's stop thinking about the stars for a minute and start thinking about what we have here," Asami said. Nervousness began to creep up on her. "I mean, the universe doesn't seem so big when all that matters is just the two of us. I think a smaller world would be pretty nice, wouldn't it?"

"With you? Yeah, that be pretty sweet," Korra agreed. "Just… we need to stay happy. No more arguing or tears or any stupid emotions other than happiness and all that good stuff… and occasionally eroticism."

"_Occasionally_ eroticism," Asami clarified, "But not tonight. This is a strictly snuggle night only."

"I wasn't suggesting doing anything tonight."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Because I thought it was relevant."

"Well, it's _obviously_ relevant, but you didn't have to bring it up now and ruin this nice moment."

"The moment isn't ruined," Korra said with a smile. "Besides, _you're_ the one who's always brining up dirty things in conversations."

"What? No I don't!" Asami said, shocked.

"Yes, you do! Ba Sing Se trip, third day. Remember what you whispered to me in front of that cute cashier? I've literally heard sailors say more appropriate things than that."

"But I never meant that! It was a joke!" Asami said defensively, standing up. "And you provoked me into it. You were the one that called him attractive in the first place. And besides, you're the one who always mentions that stupid waterfall."

"That was not a stupid waterfall. I'm pretty sure you didn't think it was stupid when you were wrist deep in—"

"Ah! Shut up!" Asami screamed hysterically. She covered her ears, her mouth hung open in playful shock. "There are people listening!"

"No there aren't!" Korra said, throwing up her arms. "We're literally on the top of a mountain. This place was chosen specifically because there is no one around for _miles_. So, no one is going to hear me when I say that beneath a waterfall in the Spirit World, Asami Sato and the Avatar li— mmmh! Mmmmh!"

Before she could get the words out, Asami had sprung on top of her girlfriend, clasping a hand over her mouth while using the other to hold Korra's arms above her head. Her knee pressed into Korra's stomach, preventing her from worming away, and despite Korra's best efforts, she could do little except let out incoherent mumbles.

"Stop talking!" Asami laughed, her cheeks bright red. "I _hate_ when you talk about that stuff; it's so embarrassing! Shut up already."

It took five minutes to finally wrestle Korra into submission. Asami had fully mounted her, her arms pinning Korra's far above her head. Their heads were inches apart, causing Asami's long black curls to tumble into Korra's face. Years of martial arts training had done well for her, and since she knew Korra wouldn't dare use any bending, she considered the battle won.

"Are you done talking?" Asami asked threateningly.

"Yes, Mistress Asami," Korra said teasingly. "So, now that _that's_ all out of the way… wanna make out?"

"You're disgusting."

"You're dating me."

Asami squinted, glaring at Korra's stupid, insulting, moronic, puckering, lovable, adorable, kissable face. She growled; Korra had been manipulating her. Here she was, lying directly on top of the Avatar, with not a single ounce of space left between their feverishly hot bodies. Well, she may have been led this far, but she needed to hold her ground. She refused to be pushed into anything else under Korra's whim. She looked closer at her girlfriend's face, feeling the apathy rising within.

Without waiting a second, she released her hold on Korra's wrists, grabbed her cheeks, and brought her into a long, passionate kiss. Korra responded pleasantly, running her hands down Asami's sides and onto her hips.

"Why are you so damn good at this?" Asami asked breathlessly after she broke away.

"Southern Water Tribe charm," replied Korra with a cocky smirk. "And Avatar charm. And just general Korra charm." Suddenly, she felt her fingers run over something hard and square in Asami's pocket. "What's that you got there?"

"Oh, this," Asami said passively. "That's just the ring I was going to use to ask you to marry me."

Korra snickered. "Oh, that's what it is? Well, why didn't you give it to me earlier?"

"I tried to, but you kept cutting me off," Asami said, her nerves getting the better of her.

"Hmm," Korra grinned. "If that's the case, then sure: I will absolutely marry you."

Asami's eyes went wide. Korra continued to snicker on the ground beneath her, yet she felt a million different emotions churning inside of her.

"You… you're actually saying yes?" Asami asked, stunned and joyous and flustered all at once.

"Yeah, why not?" Korra laughed. "What else am I going to do with my life?"

"Um… okay, then," Asami said, a smile breaking out on her face. She let out a nervous laugh, and looked up at the stars shining down on her. Was it just her, or did they seem brighter than ever?

"Great. Marriage. Yay," Korra said thoughtlessly. "Now, get back down here and kiss me, you fool."

Korra tugged Asami back down and greeted her lips warmly. Asami could barely keep still. She had spent hours panicking about what she was going to say, desperately trying to maintain her composure. She had worried how ludicrous she might have sounded, yet it seemed like Korra was more than enthusiastic. She felt like she was about to burst into tears, yet she held them back; Korra said she didn't want any more tears shed, even if they were for a completely different reason. She simply could not describe the wave of pure emotion surging within her. All she knew for certain was that this person she was currently interlocked with—this adorable, brave, selfless bender with a heart bigger than any she had ever known—was the person she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

Of course, Korra did not know of any of these feelings. She was simply reveling in the taste on her lips, the satisfaction of being intimate with another, the joy of being friends with such a beautiful person.

And then, about three minutes later, everything hit Korra like a ton of bricks.

Her body went numb. Her fingers became loose and her arms dropped to her sides. All of the passion that was driving her vanished. Her mind was racing through what had just occurred, what she had been told, what she had just agreed to do. In only an instant, Korra had shut down, and when Asami noticed this, she broke away from their kiss and stared at her lover, who bore a blank expression on her face.

_Damn it,_ Asami thought to herself. _I knew she took that too well._

"Asami," Korra said dryly. "Did you… did you, um… did you just _propose_ to me?"

"Uh, yes," Asami stated with a nod, also drawing a blank expression. "I do believe I did just that."

"And I… accepted that? Right?"

"Yes. Yes, you did."

"I accepted your proposal… to get married."

"That's what you did."

"You asked _me_… Avatar Korra of the Southern Water Tribe…"

"That's you."

"To get _married_…"

"Uh-huh."

"To _you_, Asami Sato…"

"That's also me."

"And I…"

"Yes."

"Agreed that I should do that thing that I just mentioned… with you…"

"Essentially."

"…"

"…"

"So… we're engaged now?"

"I mean, if you want to be."

"And we are going to… _marry_ each other?"

"If you say yes, then that is what we are going to do."

"Oooooooookay," Korra said, glancing off to the side of mountain. "Then… well… I guess we, uh, are going to be each other's fiancés then."

"That's the term," Asami said, her heart racing a thousand miles per minute. "Unless, of course… you don't want to get married."

Korra's vision darted back and forth between the edge of the cliff and Asami's green eyes. She thought about it for a long moment, and then looked back at the woman sitting on top of her. She spoke softly, as if the words escaping her lips weren't ever meant to be formed.

"Uh, no, actually I…" Kora said, a nervous smile branching across her cheeks, "I think… I think I would like to do that…maybe."

And then, everything became still. Both women were staring at each other, neither fully grasping the full meaning behind what they had just said. Korra lied there with a light grin on her face as Asami gently crawled off of her, and reached into her pocket.

"Well then," she said, unable to make eye contact and blushing furiously. "I suppose I should give you this."

"Uh, yeah," Korra agreed, sitting up. "I should probably take that to show people that we're… you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Asami agreed to Korra's agreement. She pulled out a small, wooden box, and delicately opened it. Inside was a golden, hexagonal ring adorned with a carving of the ocean against a backdrop of stars and a blue gemstone, the shade of dark blue that Asami knew Korra liked to wear.

"This took me a while to make, you know, while working on other projects," said Asami. "Sorry, by the way, if this isn't exactly right. Rings were usually used by my family, but if you need or prefer a necklace, then I have one of those I can give you when I get back."

"No, no, this is fine," Korra reassured. "I think rings are fine. It's all fine. Necklaces are more of a Northern thing anyway. Besides, it's very beautiful."

It was very beautiful, but Korra unfortunately wasn't in much of a state to admire it. Instead, she simply held out her hand, and allowed Asami to carefully slip the piece of jewelry onto her finger. Korra held out her hand and examined it, watching how the stone glistened in the moonlight.

"This looks great," Korra said gently, her expression unchanged.

"Yep. Yep, it does," said Asami, clasping her hands together at her waste.

"There we go."

"Absolutely."

"So… we're engaged now."

"Yeah," Asami said in disbelief. "We're engaged."

"Engaged," Korra repeated to herself, lying back down. "We are going to get married. Don't know when yet, but… we are going to get married."

"Yeah," said Asami. She smirked. "You know, it's funny. Given how much you've been trying to push us forward, I'm surprised you aren't more—"

And then, right before Asami finished, everything clicked inside of Korra's head, and she shot back up like a rocket.

"Holy shit!"

"There we go."

Korra stared at Asami with wide eyes and one of the largest smiles she had ever seen. "We're engaged."

"Yes," said Asami knowingly.

"We're engaged," Korra repeated.

"We're engaged."

"We're _engaged_," Korra said, jumping to her feet. Without skipping a beat, Asami walked up and hugged her as tightly as possible. "We're getting married. We're getting fucking _married_."

"Yes we are," Asami said, feeling the tears start to fall down her cheeks. She could no longer help herself. Korra was laughing and crying like a lunatic, all of sensations of the past few minutes hitting her at once. All either of them could feel was happiness. Asami had not planned on the proposal being so horrendous. She had not planned Korra's brain shutting off, or repeatedly being cut off, or even bursting into tears at a makeshift confession. She had planned for them to be romantically holding hands while gazing at the night sky, not jumping and laughing like giddy schoolchildren. All in all, it was probably the strangest, most awkward, irregular marriage proposal she had ever known about.

Then again, it wasn't like she was marrying someone very normal, was she? She was marrying Korra, the Avatar, the savior of the world, the most powerful woman in existence, her friend. And between her friend and the bright stars, they shared what—for the next few months—was probably going to be the greatest moment of her life.

* * *

Rei ran. He ran faster than he had ever run before. He ran past the beggar on the corner, through the fountain, over the fruit stand and into the alleyway. How had everything gone so wrong in just one short hour? Granted life had been going well at all for the past several months. He had gotten himself into debt, did some things he didn't want to do, and alienated himself from all that tried to protect him. He thought that at the end of the day, he might have had the chance for redemption. Instead, he found himself here, being chased after by an arrogant cop, and a fast one at that.

"I said stop!" Mako shouted, keeping close on Rei's tail. Nothing had been going particularly well for him either. The stakeout was a disaster; the moment he and Chen went to corner Rei in, he got the jump on them. Now Chen was dealing with what could have been a broken arm, and Mako was left to hunt the crook down on foot through the slums of the city. Everything was covered in a dull, yellow glow, and it smelled of grime and misery. Rei had a good head start, and Mako was left without backup.

Still, Mako had some advantages. Rei was sluggish and weak, probably from a long time without a decent meal. On top of that, Mako knew these streets like the back of his hand. He was raised in this part of the city. Rei attempted to break through an alley to his right, and Mako instinctively kept straight. He pushed forward, reflecting himself off of a dumpster and into another passageway. As long as he maintained his speed, he would be able to catch his prey.

Still, through the adrenaline pumping through his veins, a thought protruded in his mind: was this the psychopath that had caused so much trouble? Was this the killer who tortured his victims and wrote their sins on the wall in their own blood? Was this the monster that caused a man to kill himself? Was the monster that caused Sy to lose countless nights of sleep? Was the same monster that caused her to deal with significant trauma for the rest of her life? Driven by duty, fueled by anger, Mako pushed himself faster than he ever had before. He sped around the street corner, charged forward, and before him Rei burst into view. Before Rei had time to react, he had been tackled to the ground, struggling to get back to his feet.

"You are under arrest," Mako said, trying to secure the criminal. "You're coming with—ugh!"

Rei landed a kick to Mako's stomach, sending him reeling. He hurried to his feet, but felt a rush of pain through his leg. He landed on it poorly during the fall. He groaned, reaching for the knife in his pocket.

"You are really fast, aren't you?" Rei said, annoyed.

"We just wanted to talk to you," stated Mako, rising. "Running from the police is grounds for arrest. I suggest you put that knife away before this turns ugly."

Rei grimaced. He gripped the blade in his pocket tighter. "Oh, you want to talk? Of course. How could I be mistaken? It's not like you bastards chased me here, causing trouble in places you shouldn't. There isn't supposed to be any trouble in Jackdaw's Den. The big guy wouldn't like that."

"Then turn yourself in before I have to hurt you," said Mako, taking a step forward. Rei flipped out his knife, holding it out menacingly.

"Don't get closer," he warned. "You don't want to do this to me. I've seen things that no one should see."

"I can tell. You look like you know how to wield a weapon. It seems like you've used it before. The only question that I have left is on who you've used it on." Mako paused, noticing light reflecting off of Rei's forehead. "You're sweating. Are you nervous something might slip out?"

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about," Rei said with a small, breathless laugh. "But I think we should keep things nice and calm. No need to lose one's—"

Without warning, Rei lunged forward, swinging at Mako's neck.

"Head!"

Mako backed away, keeping his arms in front of his face. Rei charged at him, slashing desperately with his blade. While dodging another strike, he recalled something Lukara had told him in the interrogation room. She said he had a short, violent temper. He figured it probably would have been good to remember that before.

"Stop moving, you damn pig!' Rei screamed as he thrust his knife downwards. However, he left himself wide open. Mako rushed forward, sliding past the blade and grabbing onto Rei's extended wrist. Moving quickly, he pushed his other hand into Rei's neck and forced him to the ground, the knife flying away down the street. The air was forced out of his lungs as he hit the ground, and Mako secured the rest of his limbs.

"Talk!" Mako shouted. "Why did you run when we tried to talk to you?"

"I don't know."

"I think you're lying!"

"I'm not," Rei choked out. Mako punched him in the stomach, resulting in a sickening thud.

"If you weren't guilty, you wouldn't have run! You looked pretty decent with that knife? Did you use it to gut anyone recently?"

"No! No, I swear!" Rei pleaded. Another punch to the stomach was landed, followed by another to the chin. Blood dribbled down his chin.

"Tell me the truth, Rei!" Mako demanded. "Who did you attack? Who was it?"

"Please—"

"I'm not asking again! Tell me who it was or that face of yours will be the last thing you worry about!"

"Okay, I'll talk!" Rei begged. "Please, leave me alone. I didn't mean to do it!"

Mako pressed further. "Who was it? What did you do?"

"I was just trying to get money to pay back some guys," Rei explained through his agony. "I thought it would be an easy job. No one was supposed to get hurt!"

Mako paused. "Job? What job? Who did you work for? Talk."

"I… I'm sorry," Rei said, "But I can't tell you that. This is Jackdaw's Den. No one rats on each other in Jackdaw's Den. The big guy demands it."

"That's the second time you mentioned this 'big guy'," Mako stated. "Tell me who you had to kill and why! I want to hear it."

"I never killed anybody!"

"What?" Mako said in disbelief.

"I said I never killed anybody. I couldn't imagine… I just tried to mug this kid to pay back some guys, and he tried t wrestle the knife from me. I didn't mean to stab the guy, but I never meant to kill him. Is that why you're here? Did he bleed to death or something?"

Mako froze. "Is that it? Is that all you've done?"

"I'm sorry, man," Rei sobbed. "I didn't want anybody to get hurt. People get hurt enough around me."

Rei was telling the truth; Mako could feel it. In fury, he shoved him against the ground, and punched the nearby wall. He muttered angrily to himself while Rei lied pitifully on the floor. He had wasted precious time and resources hunting down a false lead. He may have interrupted something illegal, but a mugging was far from the caliber of crime he was expecting. A few minutes later, Chen came zooming around the corner in the police car, lights and horns blaring. He skid over to the sidewalk, and burst out of the car.

"Hey, you alright?" Chen asked, holding onto the car radio.

"Yeah," Mako said bitterly. "How's the arm?"

"I'll manage. I got the Chief on the line for you."

_Great_, thought Mako, taking the small, grey box. _This_ _is what I need now_.

"Detective, you there?" came Bei Fong's voice over the radio.

"I'm here," said Mako. "Rei's been apprehended, but it was a bad lead. I don't think he's our guy. From what I got out of him, the only things he worthy of arrest for are a mugging gone wrong and running from authority." Mako looked over at Rei, who was groaning in agony. It wasn't just running from the cops; it was flat-out assault. It was a crime worthy of ten years in prison. "I accidentally roughed him up a bit during the pursuit. But otherwise, he's alright."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, ma'am," Mako said after a brief pause. "Regardless, it looks like we're back down to having zero leads and three dead."

"Correction," Lin said remorsefully. "_Four_ dead, with two missing."

Mako was taken aback. "Three more? Are you sure they were all the same guy?"

"The writing was present at all three scenes of the crime. One of the places had a body; I guess this freak thought she was a bit too _envious_ for his liking. The other two might still be alive; the only writing we found with them was incoherent rambling. We couldn't find any bodies, so I guess he's still having fun with them. And Mako… one of the missing victims is eight years old."

"Shit," Mako cursed under his breath. He had accomplished nothing with his investigation, and now even more people had been thrown into this. Worse, one of them was just a kid. He felt like dirt. He felt responsible. He felt useless. All he could do was lament his own failures during the case, and question why this had to happen.

"This is going to get out," Lin stated. "The whole city's going to be up in arms. Last thing we need right now is panic over a serial killer to erupt."

"Then we'll have to hurry up and find this psychopath, won't we?" Mako said, trying to mask his guilt. "We'll just keep working. No one can hide forever."

"Let's hope so," Lin said, depressed. "Because I have a feeling things are going to get a whole lot more complicated."

* * *

The story of the murders was leaked to most major news outlets the following morning, despite the police's best efforts to keep it under wraps. Later that afternoon, Asami Sato, Iknik Blackstone Varrick, Zhu Li Moon, and Shang Dezoung left on a month-long trip across the world, with Avatar Korra officially appearing to bid her friends farewell. During their goodbyes, multiple photographs of intimate moments between the Avatar and Asami Sato were taken by the press. While the story was quickly rushed to several magazines for the next days printing, it was quickly overshadowed by the tales of multiple horrifying murders and kidnappings that had occured over the past several weeks in the city. Less than fourteen hours later, the majority of Republic City became aware of the actions caused by murderer that the papers had officailly dubbed, "The Hanzi Killer".


	12. Panic

**Note: After a three-month hiatus, we have returned! We would like to say thank you to everyone who has followed the story over the year, and for all of the support you given us. We've been busy over the summer, but we want to make sure we get to upload as often as possible over the next few weeks. We hope you've enjoyed the story so far, because now things are really going to start kicking off. As always, enjoy and see you at the next update.**

* * *

It took a mere twelve hours for everyone in Republic City to start panicking. The same news story had been broadcasted on practically every channel, echoing endlessly in a sea of static and noise.

_"The Hanzi Killer has struck again."_

_"More bodies have turned up in this shocking case of a killer on the loose."_

_"A young boy is still missing following his abrupt disappearance late last night from his home."_

_"Numerous acts have terror have been brought to light under one name—"_

_"This 'Hanzi Killer' has no clear motivation…"_

_"How can we feel safe knowing we can be abducted from our homes without warning—"_

_"—and the police have yet to issue a statement regarding the investigation of the Killer—"_

_"This is supposed to be a peaceful time—"_

_"—the ever-growing violence—"_

_"I just want my son back."_

_"No suspects."_

_"No major leads."_

_"No explanation."_

_"—only questions—"_

_"What?"_

_"Why?"_

_"Who."_

_"Is."_

_"He?"_

Korra switched the radio off with a grunt. It was driving her mad. She couldn't go a single moment without hearing someone talk about the Hanzi Killer. It wasn't that there was no reason to talk about it; it was good to keep people informed of the dangers that surrounded them. Yet, she could not understand why so much attention had been drawn to this one psychopath. Republic City had always been known for a significant criminal element. Why did one get preference over the others? Why was one killer's name repeatedly mentioned on every news broadcast, paper and pamphlet?

Well, she reasoned, it was more ghastly than the crimes people were accustomed to. A person breaks into an innocent man's home, tortures and kills him, and then writes deranged phrases on the wall in his own blood. The same thing happens to two more people without any warning, and then, the same killer kidnaps two more. And, worse of all, no one seemed to know why. For all anyone knew, these acts were random. The horrific truth was that nobody—regardless of class, nationality, gender, orientation, or anything else—was truly safe as long as the Killer was still out there.

"Hey, Korra," Bolin suddenly spoke up, "you feelin' alright? Because you've kinda just been standing there for the pat minute in dead silence."

Korra snapped to attention. She was invited over to Bolin and Opal's apartment for "sorry-that-your-fiancé-is-leaving-you-to-go-on-a-trip-with-a-horrible-business-sleaze-but-it-is-important-to-know-that-you-still-have-friends-in-us" noodles. Ironically, Opal was not actually there due to a sudden family emergency, so it was really more like "we-are-both-lonely-because-the-people-we-care-for-most-have-abandoned-us-in-our-time-of-need" noodles. Still, the company was nice, even if the circumstances surrounding it were not.

"Sorry," Korra quickly said, rushing back to her bowl. "I'm just sick of hearing this Hanzi Killer nonsense. I'm mopey enough as it is. I don't need to hear about a guy butchering other human beings."

"It's probably not the best thing to listen to while eating dinner," Bolin said, loudly slurping more noodles into his mouth. "You know, I did stumble across a celebrity talk show earlier. They were talking about you."

"About the engagement?" Korra asked in disbelief. "Why are they talking about me? I thought they usually only care about mover stars or pro-benders.

"What are you talking about? You were named their Bombshell Babe of the Year."

"Bombshell Bab—what!?" Korra did a double-take. "That's a thing? Isn't that horribly shallow?"

"Of course it is, but it's fun," Bolin said innocently. Korra stared at him with a mix of incredulity and amazement. She had no idea she had been awarded anything from people she never met and never cared about. On one hand, it was hard to believe that people cared about things as petty as her looks (but not her marriage; that was deserving of _all_ of the attention). On the other hand, she was receiving a compliment in some form, even if it was an ugly one. Regardless, it certainly helped distract her from the other, terrible things some sociopath was doing to people in her city.

"So… did I get a trophy or something?" Korra asked curiously.

"I don't think so. They just had a panel of guys and girls talking about how you were hotter than the sun. Their words, not mine. I don't even remember; it was a few months ago."

"Boy, Asami's going to _love_ to hear about this," Korra muttered with a giggle. After another bite of her meal, she snapped to attention. "Oh, what did they say about the engagement?"

"Well, the captain of the Eel Hounds said that you have no right marrying anyone when you have a commitment to the entire world. The mover star Fer Yun said that Asami looks like a man, and you're clearly conflicted over your sexuality. Another mover star said you're actually faking an engagement to get attention…"

"Okay, I think I get the point," Korra said angrily.

"Yeah… celebrities are really mean when it comes to love," Bolin said passively. He paused for a long moment. "Hey, you wanna talk about murder?"

"Please."

"Well, I was talking to Mako the other day. He said that Lin is making a statement to the press tomorrow about all of the evidence they uncovered about the Hanzi Killer."

"I know. She wants me there," Korra moaned. "Apparently, people will feel safer if they see that the Avatar is actively involved in this case. I don't really get how it matters though, considering that Lin won't even let me help out in the investigation anyway."

"After everything you've done for her, she's still holding you back? Why?"

"I don't know," Korra grunted, "probably because she's a stubborn bitch."

"Hey, that's my future aunt-in-law you're talking about," Bolin said defensively.

"You know what I mean," said Korra, frustratingly taking another bite of her food. "The thing is, I was trying to help solve this thing since the beginning, but she shut me out. She said that Mako would be able to take care of it. No offense to Mako, but he's not taking care of anything."

"Hey, if you really want to help solve this, then why don't you just do some vigilante work and bring this creep to justice all by yourself?"

"Trust me, I want to. But it's hard to track down a killer when the police are the ones who hold all of the information about him. And since they aren't sharing, I'm left on the sidelines."

"You didn't need the cops when you took down Amon," Bolin stated.

"Yeah, but at least there was a face there for me to hit," Korra said glumly. "What should I do? Run around the city and interrogate everyone I come across?"

"Eh, good point," Bolin mumbled. However, he soon smiled, and nudged her arm. "Don't get too caught up in it. Let Mako and Lin sort this out. They haven't ever let us down before. You should just think about your wedding, and more specifically, you should think about wedding _food_."

Korra laughed. "I think the other preparations—you know, like location, fauna, the date—take top priority over cuisine."

Bolin stared quizzically at her. "But… there will be food, right?"

"Oh yeah," Korra nodded, "lots of food. In fact, we'll have two separate wedding cakes. One will be a standard cake, and the other will be made specifically for you. It'll have your name engraved on it and everything, and if anyone takes even a nibble of it, we'll toss them in the ocean."

"Does that mean you'll get married on a beach?" Bolin asked expectantly.

Korra shrugged. It was funny, now that she thought about it. During the very, very brief time she and Asami talked about their impeding marriage, they could not think of any ideal location on where the ceremony would be held. Yet, she realized that practically every time in the past few years she had envisioned their wedding, it was always by a lake or an ocean. She didn't know why, but it was a comforting image. Maybe it was because she was from the Water Tribe, or because she considered the first true moment of their relationship was by a river in the Spirit World. Hell, the first time they were ever intimate with each other was also by the water, so it seemed perfectly natural to her that they should be wed there. She would have to talk to Asami about it sometime later that night. Hopefully, Asami wasn't much of a Republic City traditionalist, because the only water close by was Yue Bay, and quite frankly, Korra had been around it long enough to know that, up close, it sucked.

"You're smirking," Bolin said with a smug grin. "Are you thinking about something adorable?"

"Yes, I am," Korra said shamelessly. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No…"

"Good," Korra sighed. "If there was, I'd have to hit you."

"Please don't hit me. I'm still sore from when you punched me in the stomach during that engagement party."

"Sorry," said Korra. Suddenly, she had a worrisome thought. Bolin immediately took notice.

"What's wrong?"

"I just realized," said Korra, gesturing to him, "We announced our wedding right after yours. It was supposed to be your big moment, and we totally overshadowed you. I wasn't even _thinking_ about that!"

Korra threw herself back on the couch as a wave of guilt washed over her. She had been so focused on her own marriage that she completely ignored her friend's. When a moment that big came around in someone's life, it was important to cherish it, not push it aside to attract more attention to her. Even as Bolin tried to assure her that nothing was wrong, she felt the remorse getting stronger within her.

"Korra, no-one is saying that you can't get engaged the same time Opal and I do," Bolin said kindly.

"But I didn't have to announce it to the world!" Korra groaned. "And look, you even bought dinner for me. I should be the one buying you dinner. I feel like a jerk!"

Bolin, without a second thought, reached over and pulled Korra into his lap. He knew that he could not reach her, for she had reached an overly-emotional state. The problem with Korra was that she still never quite learned to forgive herself for doing something wrong, no matter how small the action was. It was classic Avatar guilt; holding every personal failure close to her heart.

"Don't worry about it," Bolin said comfortingly. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, we're not even really—"

Bolin froze, realizing he had said too much. He looked away and mumbled something, hoping to draw away Korra's attention. Unfortunately, years of training and meditation had heightened her senses to the point where she could immediately identify deceit. Also, Bolin was a horrible liar, so it wasn't all that difficult to tell that he was hiding something.

"You're not really what?" she asked, staring suspiciously at him. He squirmed.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. Don't pull anything on me. I'm lying on top of you; I can practically hear your heartbeat from here. So, what are you not?"

Bolin pulled on the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. Korra glared knowingly at him. Her blue eyes pierced straight through him. Before he knew what he was doing, and against his better judgment, he nervously mumbled, "We're not, uh… really engaged."

Korra's eyes widened in shock. "You and Opal aren't engaged?"

"No," Bolin stated. "We're married."

Korra's eyes widened further. "You two are _married_? How long have you been married?"

"How long have you and Asami been dating?"

Korra could not contain her emotions. She flung herself off the couch, grabbed Bolin by the shoulders, and shoved him further into the cushions. She snarled at him, giving him the most serious stare down she could muster. The liar was sweating and breathing heavily; he knew he just admitted to a great deception, and now he would be punished for it.

"You and Opal have been married for four years and you never told us!?" Korra screamed. "What the hell, bro!?"

"I didn't mean to lie!" Bolin pleaded.

"Details! _Now_," Korra demanded. "I want to know everything, or else I swear I will rip your arms off and feed them to you."

Since Bolin did not like the idea of eating his own arms, he talked rather openly about his secretive marriage. Four years ago, Korra and Asami decided to take a vacation in the Spirit World following Kuvira's defeat. As Korra was busy at the time, she had been entirely unaware that, simultaneously, Bolin and Opal took a private vacation of their own to the Fire Nation. While it was not particularly as exotic r grand as the Spirit World, the pair managed to enjoy themselves in a small city near the coast. They spent only a week there, but it full of passion and spontaneity. It was the latter that led Bolin to suddenly asking Opal's hand in marriage, and it was the latter once again that led them to rent out a space for an evening, find a naval captain, and get married later that same night. When they returned, they were had been so ashamed that they married without any of their friends or family present that they decided to keep the information a secret until they could figure out a way to politely break the news. Time continued to pass, Korra announced that she was dating Asami, Mako announced he was dating a variety of other women, and the pair simply buried the truth away, having felt that they lost the opportunity to say what had actually occurred during their brief vacation. This went on until only recently when they decided to fake another marriage, which led to a party, which led to Korra and Asami getting engaged, which led to Korra feeling guilty, which led to Bolin spilling the beans on his own marriage, which led to this precise moment when Bolin admitted everything to her as she threatened to rip his arms off.

Korra listened carefully until Bolin had finished, and then released him. He took the opportunity to move several inches away from her, lest she try to attack again.

"So, are you still mad?" he asked worriedly. Korra sighed.

"Kind of. I get the need to keep secrets, and I get the problem with spontaneous bursts of passion. Trust me; I've dealt with plenty of those before. But keeping your entire _marriage_ a secret for four years is pretty damn shifty."

"We meant to tell you," Bolin said earnestly. "Things just got a bit out of hand. Promise me you won't tell anyone, especially the Bei Fongs. They will _actually_ rip my head off."

Korra groaned. "Fine, I'll keep it a secret, but only because I owe you for that turtle incident during the trip to Ba Sing Se."

Bolin breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately ran to Korra, placing her in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you! Thank you! I promise never to keep anything from you again."

Korra nodded, and returned the hug. However, her attention was drawn to the window. The sun was setting before her very eyes. She had a grueling day ahead of her. Looking out at the world, she felt something stir within her, something she couldn't quite place. She realized something: for all of the superficial problems that she faced with friends, for all the dreams of romance and love, her focus could never stay. There was a world she needed to protect, a world she needed to keep safe. Even now, when the happiest days were ahead of her, there was a serial killer kidnapping, torturing and murdering innocent people. She had to put an end to it, even if it meant pushing aside everything else. She only felt this sensation for a brief moment, but it haunted her long after she had said her goodbyes and went back to her home.

It was only hours later, when she was lying comfortably in her bed, when she finally understood what she had felt. There, staring out at the world, she felt horribly, truly alone.


	13. Close to the Edge

There was a narrow walkway on the Future Industries airship that was primarily used for an emergency passage between decks. It ran along the base of the ship from the front to the rudder, sloping up and down several times. It was rather minuscule, providing barely room for one person to pass at a time. Also, in the event of the ship tilting far to one side, it would provide little room to cushion the rider, and they would be tossed overboard with severity.

However, Asami felt completely comfortable leaning along the railing on the narrow passage, primarily because the view of the sunset _was_ to die for. It was a glorious sight as the sky burned bright orange and deep purple, and it calmed her nerves greatly. She nearly forgot that she was trapped aboard a flying prison with people she hardly wanted to be with. She also did not mind that a strong gust of wind would send her plummeting into some poor Earth Kingdom village hundreds of feet beneath her, because at least she could see the sunset on the way down.

Asami wondered if Korra was also watching the sunset. She knew Korra liked sunsets, or at least she had better, since the engineer had nearly killed herself trying to duplicate one. Asami figured that there was a large probability that Korra was watching the sunset at the precise moment she was, and her heart could not help but swoon at the thought. That was one of those romantic clichés that women fell for: two people a considerable distance from each other who were coincidentally looking at the exact same thing at the exact same time. It meant that their destiny was intertwined, a romantic prospect in and of itself. Then again, Asami realized that even if they were both looking at the same thing at the same time, it wouldn't be all that romantic unless they were both aware of it. Without that, it was actually rather awkward staring into the sunset and imagining someone else staring as well. What if Korra was sleeping, or eating, or doing something else that no one should ever peer in on. Perhaps it was really only romantic in the fairy tales. Last time she checked, her life was not one.

"What are you doing all alone out here?" suddenly asked a snide voice behind her. Asami felt her stomach drop. Maybe she would have to reconsider the fairy tale theory; after all, there was a big, bad wolf standing right behind her.

"Watching the sunset," Asami said, trying to conceal the bitterness in her voice. Shang strolled up next to her, wearing little more than sweat pants and an undershirt two sizes too big. He smirked, leaning over the rail to look her in the eye.

"You know they invented these incredible things called 'windows', right? They are really incredible; since they are transparent, you can stare right out of them from inside of a room. You don't have to stand on this walkway of death."

"Maybe I just wanted to be alone," Asami shrugged.

"That's impossible," Shang said dismissively. "I'm here. How could you not want to spend time with me? I am perfect in every way."

"Shang, let's just not do this. I've been in a really good mood all day and I'm not going to let you ruin it by doing something stupid."

"Oh, don't think like that," said Shang. He hopped up onto the railing, turning his back to the sunset. He kicked his feet as he dangled backwards, like a child swimming in a pool. Asami almost prayed that a gust of wind would arrive and blow him off of the edge. "You have so many great things going for you. You've built a slew of incredible devices, you have a genius intellect, and most importantly, you partnered with Ingenious Enterprises, the greatest company in the world. Things can only get better for you."

"For a moment there, you sounded like you were sincerely saying something nice."

"I am sincere," Shang grimaced. He spoke quickly yet poignantly. "Look, let's not beat around the bush. I know you don't like me very much."

Asami opened her mouth to object, but Shang cut her off.

"Lots of people don't like me. And I admit: most of that is probably my fault. I've been told that I can be blunt, inconsiderate, narcissistic, and a whole bunch of other big words that don't matter. And I also know that I don't do any favors to people I am trying to impress. For instance, forcing you to leave on this trip early was wrong, and I'm sorry for that."

The engineer nodded, and rested her head on her palm.

"My point is this: I am a terrible person who does terrible things. I've abused the system to increase profits, arranged to give technology to parties that would misuse them, got hitched to two separate women on opposite sides of the planets without telling either, and frankly just demonstrate dick-ish behavior."

"You have two wives?" Asami asked in shock.

"Yes. It's wonderful. Where was I?"

"You are an awful person."

"That's right. Miss Sato, I acknowledge my flaws so that I can view my actions objectively. Before, I used to be nothing, but now, I feel like a king. I can put aside my ego and my other wife, and look at the people around me effectively. I can see what their strengths are, and I can see their weaknesses. When you see people for what they really are, it changes your whole view on the world. You, Asami… I can see _everything_ about you. You are passionate. You are dedicated. You have boundless ingenuity and more heart than I've seen in anyone for years. You are an incredible, talented young woman, who has helped save the world countless times and always strives for more. I guess what I really mean by this is that I'm sorry for any wrongdoings and—despite all my shady, weird and questionable behavior—I really appreciate the opportunity to work with someone as gifted as you are."

Shang took a deep breath, and hopped back onto the walkway. Asami simply stared at the sunset for a very long while. Shang patiently waited for a response. However, since patience was one of Shang's weaknesses, he could only stand still for about ten seconds before he started tapping the head of Future Industries repeatedly on the shoulder.

"Are you gonna say something or what?" he asked worriedly. Asami turned towards him and crossed her arms. A ghost of a smile was present on her face.

"That," she stated, "was a very _interesting_ way of apologizing."

Shang chuckled. He leaned against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well, one of those flaws I mentioned is that I don't speak no good sometimes. My mouth just outruns my brain."

"Don't worry. Korra can be like that sometimes," Asami said kindly. "I don't dislike you, Shang. I'm not sure if I really dislike anybody. I haven't really been trying to push us forward these past few weeks either. I've been dealing with a lot of stress, and I haven't been acting like myself. But I'm about to start a new chapter of my life; a _better_ chapter. And now that I actually feel like me again, I want to put all of this animosity behind us. We're partners now, so we might as well make the best of it."

Asami held out her hand, and lovingly smiled. "Apology accepted. Are we good?"

Shang reached out instantly, and firmly grasped her hand within his. "Of course, partner. Glad we could work this out."

"Of course," Asami said in agreement. "Just promise me you won't say anything else horribly misogynistic or offensive."

"Just promise me you won't say anything to my other wife."

"I don't know who your wife is."

"And let's hope it stays that way. I tell you, having two wives is great and all, but stressful as hell. Still, I don't think I could ever get used to the drag of monogamy. People who settle down are wasting their time… except you, obviously. You found a wonderful gal."

"Just remember who my fiancé is," said Asami confidently. "Because I don't think you would ever want to say something like that in front of her if you want to keep eating solid food."

"Gotcha."

"Just letting you know," Asami said with a small laugh. "You're lucky that I'm don't get agitated as easily as her—"

As Asami laughed out her words, she felt the walkway beneath her buckle. The airship was struck with a forceful wind at that precise moment. It croaked under the pressure, and rocked briefly to its side with a formidable groan. In merely an instant, Asami felt her legs fall out from under her, and she was flipped around so that her stomach slammed into the railing, and the breath was knocked out of her lungs. Then, she found herself helplessly turning as the momentum carried her over the edge, and pushed her away towards the empty sky. She was vertical, her eyes wide as she came face-to-face with the rocky terrain hundreds of feet below. Her stomach churned and the vertigo overwhelmed her; her hands clawed at the wind for something to grab, yet nothing was there. Time seemed slowed for ages as she hung like a bat from the side of the ship, the tug of gravity begging her to fall. And then, after what felt like an eternity yet merely took the length of a heartbeat, she was grabbed the feet, and yanked back onto the walkway at full force, while the ship quickly realigned. Asami heard her heart beating in her ear as she pressed herself against the wall forcefully and regained her bearings. If Shang had reached out a second later, she had no doubt that it would have been her end. She looked up at her savior, her partner, who was mimicking her movements and panting heavily.

"See," he stated, "this is why you should watch the sunset from_ inside _the airship."

* * *

The normal schedule for Masaki Sugiyama was for him to walk home from the park after sunset, following a strict pathway that would bring him home in the fastest time possible. It took him several weeks to calculate the proper route, given his preferred walking speed and overall necessity to arrive home at a decent hour, but he was very proud of what he had accomplished. His home was actually quite a distance away, and though he was given more freedom than a twelve-year-old should be given, he still followed a strict curfew.

One of the many streets that Masaki walked on his way home passed through the slums. Typically, a child might show some concern about traversing an area so dangerous at such a late hour, but Masaki showed no such fear No, Masaki was a brave child. He did not fret over some mugger or crook threatening to harm him. Masaki could face those bullies without a problem. He was tougher than he looked, or at least that was his preconception. This minor uncertainty did cause his detour through the slums to be quite brief, as he only traveled across three blocks before ducking back into more crowded areas of the city.

Tonight, his path was no different. Close to the end of his journey, Masaki dived right into his shortcut, moving briskly in the dying sunlight. He passed by the many familiar obstacles during his walk that he encountered every week. He walked passed the homeless man who smelled of musk and rats sleeping by the perfume sign. he saw the three rebellious teenagers who huddled around their drugs and stared cruelly at him from the other side of the road, like sharks waiting to feed. He passed the abandoned car two minutes later, which had its windows broken, tires slashed and steering wheel ripped out years ago. He passed the desperate prostitute wallowing in a drunken stupor by the steps to a run-down apartment complex, in mourning for a lost friend; to be fair, that person had only started showing up very recently.

However, something different did happen right before he turned away from the downtrodden ruins. As he went to pass through the alleyway, a large, slug-like man, with a thick bald head and round spectacles, darted passed him, accidentally knocking the child over. Masaki glanced back at the fat creature, who was shuffling away as fast as his stubby legs could take him. The man turned around, and Masaki noticed that he was carrying what appeared to be tools and chunks of scrap metal in his thick arms. Their eyes met; Masaki could see the fear behind them, the sense of dread and panic that was consuming the poor creature. The man halted briefly, taking in Masaki's form for only a second or two before turning and bolting off like a frightened animal. Masaki casually stood up, watching the man scurry away. He did the only thing he knew how to do: he smiled.

"Have a good night!" Masaki called out, waving his hand in the air. He hoped all went well for the slug-like man. Then, with the thought out of his head and a large grin on his face, he turned around, moved quickly through the alleyway, and continued on his way home.


	14. The Press Conference

**Note: We at GodSaveTheKings would like to apologize for what we've considered "slow chapters". We know we don't update as often as we should, and when we do it isn't always that long or eventful of a chapter, and we are trying to work on that. We've simply taken our cues from horror films, which we have a great affinity for. Basically, we believe that a suspenseful tale such as ours should have more slow moments so that when something eventful does happen, it stands out more. Hopefully, we will get something more exciting happening by the next chapter or so. Just stick with us a little while longer. In the meantime, enjoy this "slower" chapter. Let us know what you think of the story so far by leaving a review below. It would be greatly appreciated.**

* * *

The press conference was scheduled to begin at precisely ten o'clock in the morning. It was to be held outside of city hall, where a podium had been set upon a stage, and rows of chairs were assembled for the press. When Korra arrived at the event, she found herself caught in a mix of news vans and police vehicles, which covered the roads and formed a tight blockade around the building. She spotted multiple reporters hovering by the stage, waiting to strike like vultures. As she drove closer to the blockade, an officer spotted her, and motioned towards a narrow pathway that led directly towards the hall. Korra carefully maneuvered the roadway, praying that she would not hit anyone. While her driving had improved considerably over the years, she was never comfortable navigating tight spaces. What made it worse was that several reporters began to notice her, and swarmed her car, desperately trying to gain an exclusive interview or statement. Korra was forced to fully break to avoid running people over, leaving her stranded a good thirty yards from the safety of the building. She took a deep breath, and with fierce determination, bolted out of her car and through the crowd.

"Avatar Korra, what do you have to say regarding the Hanzi Killer?" shouted one reporter.

"Are you coordinating with the police on this investigation?" called another.

"Do you feel responsible for allowing Republic City's crime to escalate under your protection?" asked one more.

"No comment. Sorry, can't answer that. Excuse me," Korra repeated as politely as she could manage as she shoved her way through the horde. Thankfully, a group of officers managed to clear a path for her, making her passage slightly easier. Still, she was not starting the day in a particularly good mood, which was not helped by the constant microphones shoved into her face. If she was younger and less experienced, she very well would have kicked someone in the face by this point. She guessed the meditation was paying off, for soon she was safely inside without having delivered any bodily harm to anyone around her.

The inside of city hall was mostly abandoned, save for numerous guards, a handful of political associates, and some noteworthy faces. Chief Beifong was standing arms folded next to President Raiko near the center of the council room, surrounded by men in suits swiftly delivering her instructions. Two cops to her right were conversing about the heavy media attention outside. Twenty degrees to her left, Korra spotted a downtrodden officer resting on a bench, with what appeared to be a big ball of white hair wrapped around him. Curious, Korra began walking towards him. When she got close, the ball of hair suddenly sprang to life, and rushed over to her, latching itself onto her torso.

"Hey, Korra!" cried the overly-enthusiastic, ever-talkative, pale as moonlight being that Mako somehow managed to call a girlfriend. "I haven't seen you in forever."

"Uh… same," Korra said in discomfort. She gave Sy a light pat on the back, for hugging her in return was not only something she felt as unnecessary, but she feared that she might accidentally break one of the frail girl's ribs in doing so. "What are you doing here? I thought this area was restricted."

Sy thankfully released her grasp on the Avatar, giving Korra some much needed space. "Oh, it is," she explained, "but the Chief said I could keep Mako company as long as I didn't annoy her. I guess she figured that he could use the company. He hasn't really been feeling like himself since the story leaked."

Korra pursed her lips. Mako had barely taken notice of her presence. He merely sat alone on the bench, hanging his head in shame. While Korra usually did not mind seeing Mako in agony (she and Asami often found it hysterical), he was still one of her closest friends. She could not stand the sight of him defeated by something so simple as an investigation. She casually walked over and took the empty seat next to him.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked bluntly yet sincere.

"You mean aside from the fact that the case I was supposed to handle got blown up into the biggest news story of the year?" he said, slumping into his seat.

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"It sort of is. I had a duty to solve this case, and bring a killer to justice. And, I failed miserably. People who do their jobs well are the ones who don't need to get recognized. Now, every paper and news station in the city won't stop talking about the Hanzi Killer. After this mess, I doubt Lin will keep me on the case, let alone deal with it myself."

"I think you might be blowing this out of proportion," Korra explained gently. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "In fact, I think _everybody_ is blowing this out of proportion. This city has dealt with a whole lot worse than a creep with a writing obsession, and we've managed just fine."

"Yeah, you gotta get out of this slum," Sy stated as she leaned over the bench and loosely wrapped her arms around Mako's shoulders. "I know this is all a bit weird, but I'm sure everything will turn out absolutely fine. Miraculously, it always does. So, you better turn that frown upside down, mister. Stoic and brooding doesn't suit you." Sy paused for a long moment, scrunching her nose in contemplation. "Okay, well, it _does_ suit you, but not like this! This is too depressing. Normally, you're a lot more charming and mysterious and… _really_ sexy—"

"I think I got the point," Mako said hurriedly, cutting her off. However, he offered her a genuine smile. "Thanks, Sy."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," Sy replied with a large grin. She playfully rustled with Mako's hair. He swatted away her hands, although the look on his face showed anything but displeasure. Maybe, Korra thought, she had been a bit presumptive about Sy. After all, she really only gave the young woman one chance, and she did not ever feel like it was a fair one either. Korra disliked most of Mako's past girlfriends, primarily because they were too snobby or inattentive. She wanted the best for her friend, and that may have caused her to be harsher than she thought she was. It was clear to Korra just from that one moment that Sy cared about her friend. She may have had her faults, but she did, in fact, care. Maybe that was enough for Korra. Maybe, she would be able to give this youthful woman a second chance, a chance to truly become her friend.

And then, Sy opened her mouth again. "Oh, and by the way, congrats on your engagement, Korra. I heard about from that great celebrity talk show. Do you listen to those guys? It's hysterical. They talk about you all the time, actually. One time, they were having this contest—"

"Oh, what was that?" Korra said suddenly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I think Lin just called me over. It's probably important. Better check it out. I'll talk to you guys later."

Without giving either of her friends time to respond, Korra raced out of her seat (in a calm-ish manner so as to not arouse suspicion), and headed off towards the Chief and the President. Mako, who was very understanding, gave her a simple nod of farewell. Sy, who paused in mid-sentence, simply blinked multiple times in confusion, her smile fading to a blank expression.

"Oh, sure," she trailed off. "You go do that. I'll just… sit here… with my boyfriend… being fabulous and whatnot…"

Korra dutifully approached Lin, who half-smiled upon seeing her.

"Glad you showed up," she said with her usual lack of cheer. "You're just in time for the show to start."

"It's good to see you, Avatar," Raiko said. "Thank you for the taking the time to help us."

"It's not a problem," said Korra. "Anything that I can do to help out is fine with me."

"That's a positive outlook," Raiko commented, "much more than most around here. Here, we've prepared a statement for you." One of the assistants handed Korra a set of notecards covered in blocky lettering. She scanned her eyes over the words, taking them in carefully. As she finished, a scowl crossed her face.

"This sounds almost like a message of surrender," she said distastefully.

"It's not surrender," Lin clarified. "This is simply to show that your involvement in the case is completely unwarranted."

"But I don't _want_ it to be unwarranted," Korra said brashly. "I want to help. Do you really want me to go tell everyone out there that I have better things to do than protect them? Besides, this doesn't even sound anything like me."

"It's what will calm people down."

"What will calm people down is letting them know that the Avatar is doing everything she can to put a stop to these murders. If you were going to drag me here, it should have been for more than being some stupid puppet. I thought after everything we had been through together, you might have a little more faith me. I guess I was wrong though."

"I have plenty of faith in you. That's why we're doing this," Lin replied sternly. "Think about it. The Avatar is supposed to protect the _world_, not just the people in it. This Hanzi Killer has people spooked, and we are trying our best to control it. If we brought you on the case, not only would everyone know that the situation is out of hand, but it would validate the significance of everything that freak has been up to."

"I appreciate you trying to help, Korra," Raiko agreed, "but we don't want this getting further out of hand. The best you can do is assuring those people that they have nothing to fear."

"Trust us," Lin said with a small grin, "if the Hanzi Killer ever starts stomping around in a giant robot, you be the first person we call. Until that happens, are you going to be cooperative or not?"

Korra sighed. She tightly gripped the notecards in her hands. The words they used were far more sophisticated than anything she would come up with normally. She would have preferred coming up with something on her own, or better yet, forgoing talks altogether and punching the Hanzi Killer in his big, dumb face. But, Lin had a point. Korra had been sick of this story since it first dropped. If claiming ignorance and stepping aside would mean clearing up the radio for a day, she would be more than glad to do it.

Half an hour passed before Korra was informed that the conference was about to begin. Raiko and Lin gave each other a nod of approval, and moved toward the entrance of city hall. Korra followed behind, surrounded by a group of security guards. She kept her note cards clasped behind her back as she entered into the morning lights. Dozens of reporters sat in front of a large stage, murmuring in anticipation. Multiple flashes danced around the crowd as the hungry gathering snapped picture after picture. Raiko moved immediately to the podium, with Lin standing close behind. Korra, as she was instructed, stayed several paces to their left. She brushed the hair out of her eyes; hopefully she did not look as gloomy as she felt.

Korra barely paid attention to Raiko's brief speech. She thought mostly of what she had to say herself. She did not have a good history of making public speeches, and the press in particular hadn't ever been too kind to her. The words "eight percent" still haunted her every now and then. As she looked out into the crowd, she did not see a single familiar face. She only saw the inquisitive, the excited, and the frightened. There was a crowd of bystanders watching from outside the barrier. Maybe she recognized someone there.

"Chief Beifong will now take the stand to divulge further information and take questions," Raiko finished, shocking Korra back to reality. He was escorted off the stage by two guards, while Lin moved forward and cleared her throat.

"Thank you, sir," Lin stated cordially. "I will try my best to explain the evidence as we have received it. Several weeks ago, we received a noise complaint in the Winged-Lion District. We discovered the body of Kuzo Diaxini there, severely mutilated. The scene had been cleaned of all evidence with the exception of writing on the wall in Mr. Diaxini's blood. The next day, the remains of his son Feng were picked up downtown. We have no evidence that labels this as anything other than suicide. Then, two days later, the remains of Nuo Krovo were discovered in Avatar Korra Park, baring many similarities to Mr. Diaxini. To date, she is the only victim who was not found within their residence. The Killer remained quiet until two nights ago, when the remains of Ami Satori were discovered in her bedroom, mutilated and accompanied by more blood writing. Simultaneously, we received reports of more blood writing cropping up within homes, which coincide with the disappearance of forty-five year-old Bubba Nen, and eight-year old Quan Irro. We believe these two to be hostages, but still alive, for reasons we don't yet know. Those are the facts. You know everything we know, which I understand isn't much to go on. Still, I hope that at least gets things out in the open. I will now take questions."

A flurry of hands quickly burst into the air as reporters shouted and pushed each other for prominence. Lin nodded to a single gentleman in the front row. "Do you have any evidence connecting the victims of the Killer?"

"As of now, we have not found any noteworthy connection between the five victims," said Lin calmly. Korra was impressed. Lin certainly knew how to handle a panicked crowd. "However, we do have multiple leads we have officers following up as we speak. We hope to have a more specified evaluation within the week."

Another reporter jumped to the forefront. "How do you propose people stay safe from someone who attacks people in their own homes?"

"Until we have more evidence, all we can advise is that people stay inside and lock their doors at night. Be wary of any suspicious characters."

"Can you tell us anything else?" begged another. "Do you have their motivation? Techniques? Any further details?"

"The only linking factor between the victims is the form of death. The three deceased were all exposed to similar methods of torture before their deaths. With the exception of Miss Krovo, all victims were found inside their own homes. These are the only notable similarities with each case. As for motivation, it's still a mystery. Although, I am sure that someone wouldn't leave writing in their victims' blood if they weren't looking for attention."

"So you don't know anything important about him at all?" cried the same reporter, causing the crowd to stir.

Lin sneered. "That's why it's called a mystery, isn't it?"

"But you don't know how to stop them?"

"We'll stop him the way we've stopped every killer, rapist, thief and crook in this city!" Lin said with sudden defiance. The calamity within the crowd ceased. Lin continued to speak her voice harder than before. "I've dedicated my life to making sure Republic City doesn't descend into disorder. We've overcome cults, terrorists, and even entire armies before. Over these past four years, we have seen an unprecedented level of peace, and I refuse to let anyone throw away all of this tranquility because some psychopath likes to get off on cutting innocent people into bits."

Korra, who was still standing awkwardly to the side, gulped. Maybe she was wrong about Lin being able to handle this. She was essentially reciting what was written on Korra's notecards, albeit more crudely and with more fervor.

"The people need to know that this Hanzi Killer isn't anything worse than what we've faced before. This lunatic isn't a sign of the apocalypse, or a monster snatching people in the dead of night. He's simply a man with a bad obsession and a flair for style. And just like the Equalists, and just like Kuvira's army, we will hunt him down, we will catch him, and we will make him pay for what he's done. There's nothing left to fear from him, so let's just bury it and get back to something that actually matters."

Lin finished her outburst to the sound of silence. She did not care that she had gone off script. She had been building frustration over this overblown case for weeks, and all it took was something small to set it off. She was gripping the desk tightly, her knuckles white. It took a few seconds for her to register what she was supposed to do next. When she did, she ground her teeth, and breathed into the microphone, "Avatar Korra will now make a statement."

She turned towards the Water Tribe native, and motioned her over. Korra saw the ferocity burning behind her pale green eyes. She began to cautiously approach the bench, thinking about what to say. What _could_ she say? Lin said everything for her. She glanced nervously at the podium, and then at Lin, and then at the crowd. Should she speak her mind? Should she apologize? Would Lin even want people to think that she was sorry? She glanced back at Lin, then back at the podium, then back at Lin.

Wait. That was weird.

Korra's eyes darted back to the podium. Something was odd about it. The podium was nothing more than a long, thick block of slanted, solid wood with microphones attached on top. There weren't any breaks or noticeable gaps or breaks within it. Or at least, there weren't a minute ago. But now, looking at the podium up close, Korra saw something strange. Right on the inside, just underneath the microphones, facing inward towards the speaker, was a small compartment. That compartment wasn't supposed to be there, Korra thought quizzically. She seemed to be the only one to notice it; Lin was too busy looking at her, and the section was invisible to anyone in the audience. It had just appeared out of nowhere. More strange was the fact that the compartment wasn't empty. Resting on the bottom of the shelf was a strange, cylindrical device, only a couple inches long. It appeared rough and uncleaned, as if it had been very hastily constructed from poor materials. Running along the side and through the canister was a series of black wires, which were connected to a small, black box on the top. In the silence, Korra could hear a series of clicks emitting from the canister. They were getting noticeably faster. In addition to that, Korra could make out a thick inscription written on the box in red lettering. Even from a distance, she had no trouble making out the words.

_Demonstration_

Korra's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to scream, to warn the woman in front of her, tell her friend to move out of the way.

But it was too late. In only the blink of an eye, the canister exploded.

The force of the explosion sent Korra flying. She slammed into the ground with a hard thud, smacking her head against the wooden stage. She blacked out for a few moments, and then awoke with a shock. She saw the world move around her in slow motion. The empty buzz of white noise filled her ears. She forced her head up, fighting the swell of pain. The reporters were trampling over each other to get away from the stage. Some of the ones who sat near the front were clutching their ears in agony. The podium had been obliterated by the force of the blast; it was now little more than chunks of wood scattered over the stage. Korra saw a guard scramble past her, heading to a collapsed figure on the floor.

Then, Korra saw Lin. She had been knocked to the edge of the stage. She lied on the ground completely motionless. Her arm had been twisted into a funny, unnatural shape. Korra saw protrusions sticking out of her limbs and torso: nails, broken glass, small blades. A puddle of blood was slowly pooling beneath her limp figure. Korra could see her face, her eyes; the eyes which moments before had been so full of energy were now empty and dull. Others were gathered around her, trying to talk to her, heal her wounds. Korra instinctively reached out towards her, trying to help. She needed to get to Lin. She _had_ to, or else… she couldn't bear to think of it. It felt unreal, like she was dreaming. Korra tried to push herself off the ground, but without warning, a horrid pain rocketed through her, and she fell onto her back.

Korra felt dizzy. She felt sock. She felt terror. She felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins to keep her alive. She tried to get up once more, to will herself into action, but was forced down yet again by some unseen force. Using what little strength she had, Korra finally decided to look down at herself.

Oh, that explained it, she thought. A long, rusty nail was sticking directly out of her side. Her blue shirt was stained bright red. By pure instinct, she grabbed onto the head, and yanked as hard as she could. She felt the jagged metal slide past her organs, through the layers of muscle, and out of the damaged skin in one euphoric rush. She took a long look at the thing that was implanted inside of her; it was covered two inches deep in blood. She threw the damned thing away, and let the pain wash over her. She could feel herself fading into darkness, her consciousness slipping away.

As the world faded around her, Korra saw more guards rushing past her. They needed to help Lin. Korra didn't mind. It made sense to help the dying one.

Korra thought of Asami, briefly. Temporarily. The beautiful face of her fiancé only rested on her mind for a split-second before being lost in the ether. It lasted as long as it possibly could. Korra thought of the pain running through her that slowly began to dissipate with her mind. She thought of that word on the bomb. _Demonstration_. What a peculiar word, that was. She knew it probably meant something important. She could probably deal with it later.

And then, she passed out.


	15. The Aftermath

**Note: So we said the last chapter would be slow. obviously, we lied. But, as we said before, we are fans of horror films, and took several cues from them; for instance: you never know when your favorite character is going to get killed off. We'll be uploading chapters over the rest of the year, so stay tuned. Let us know what you think of the story, and what you want to see happen next. Who knows, maybe you have far better ideas than us! In the meantime, enjoy.**

* * *

Korra slowly opened her eyes. Her senses were overloaded by a bright light shining down on her. Where was she? What had happened to her? The grogginess overwhelmed her; it took all she had not to slip away again. It took a few minutes for her to recognize her surroundings. She was in a white room, resting on a stiff green bed. The room was desolate, sterile, lacking all traces of emotion in its design. But why was she there?

The, it all came rushing back. She was at the press conference. Lin lost her cool. She turned away, and then there was an explosion, and Lin was—she was bleeding, _dying_. Where was Lin? Was she alright? Korra felt a sudden burst of energy, and shoved off of the bed. Immediately, a sharp pain burst through her gut, and she felt a cool hand gently push her back down.

"Whoa, easy there," came the sweet voice of the woman above her. "You aren't in any shape to move around yet."

Korra laid back on the bed, defeated. She glanced down at her torso. Bandages wrapped around her midsection, sticking out from underneath her stained shirt. The doctor with whom she spoke was in her mid-thirties, and spoke with a calm, yet firm tone. She had a very innocent face, which was faintly laced with fear. She was trying to hide her concern for Korra's benefit. The Avatar saw right through it, but applauded the effort.

"Where am I? What the hell happened to me?" Korra asked. Her words were dry and strained.

"Republic City Central Hospital," replied the doctor. "You were caught in a bombing. A rusted nail got driven two inches through your small intestine. You were bleeding pretty badly, but we cleaned out the wound the best we could. Hopefully, it won't get infected."

"That doesn't explain why my head hurts," Korra groaned. "How long was I out?"

"About ten hours," the doctor said bluntly. "A word of advice, from a professional: if you ever get impaled by a foreign object, don't pull the thing out of you. That's probably the worst thing you can do if you want to minimize bleeding."

"Sorry," Korra sighed. "Where's the Chief? Is she okay?"

"Let's just worry about you for now," the doctor insisted.

"That's not an answer," she said. "Please, I just need to know if she's—"

"She's alive. She's hurt, but she is alive."

Korra released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. Her muscles relaxed, letting her fall further into her pillow. The doctor pursed her lips.

"I should probably tell the others you're awake," she said.

"Others?"

"Most of them are waiting close to Miss Beifong. I'll be back in a moment." The doctor quietly walked out of the room, leaving Korra to her thoughts. Her side was killing her, but that was not her main concern. She was worried about what she saw before she blacked out. _Demonstration_. That word haunted her. Her friend was nearly dead, and for what; an example to the world, to show that the Hanzi Killer was more than just another monster with a knife? The press must have been having a field day with this story. She imagined the headlines: _Hanzi Killer Strikes Back! Avatar Helpless to Stop the Killings! Nowhere is Safe!_ It sickened her worse than any raw wound.

Still, Korra supposed she was lucky. She was only struck by one small piece of shrapnel. She remembered the image of Lin's twisted body, her contorted limbs, and her lifeless eyes. That could have been her. That should have been her. Maybe that was the intention. The bomb did appear to be on a timer. Maybe she _was_ the target. If Lin had finished her speech a few seconds earlier, if she had answered one less question, then Korra would be the one dying on the stage.

Korra clenched her fist. It was all her fault. They had attacked her, and Lin paid the price for it. A more rational part of her said that she did not know the Killer was targeting her, but the rage was quickly overpowering that section of her mind. Even if that wasn't the case, then they still only attacked Lin to prove a point. Her life meant nothing to the Killer, nothing at all. Korra's nails dug into her palm, nearly breaking the skin. She could handle someone wanting to hurt her, but _no one_ would dare hurt her friends while she was around to stop them.

The door opened. Like a tidal wave, Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo crashed into the room, and jumped on top of her, wrapping themselves around her neck, waist, and leg, respectively. They had grown significantly over the years, yet they were still very much children at heart. Korra appreciated the sentimentality, but let out a gasp as Ikki tightened her grip on her wounded abdomen.

"It's good to see you, too," Korra wheezed, "but you're going to have to let go of me."

"Eek! Sorry," Ikki cried, drawing sharply away. "We're just glad you're okay."

"You are okay, right?" Meelo asked worriedly. Korra made sure to smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm all good," she assured. "Where's your brother?"

"Rohan is sleeping," Jinora explained. "The excitement of today must have taken everything out of him." Korra nodded as she saw Bolin and Mako sneak into the room out of the corner of her eye. A part of her hoped to see Asami follow, but she knew that would be impossible.

"Glad to see you haven't abandoned me either," Korra half-joked.

Bolin shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry. I've been trying to calm Opal down. She's a bit distraught."

"No, I get it," stated the Avatar. She glanced at Mako. "_You_ could have at least stopped by."

"I did, a few hours ago. You were unconscious," Mako said in defense. "By the way, Sy hopes you get well soon. She wanted to stick around, but I sent her home. I figured you didn't need the extra noise."

"Thanks," Korra said with a knowing smirk. Mako _was_ always a very noble gentleman. However, her mind quickly turned to more serious matters. "How's Lin doing? The doctor wasn't telling me anything."

There was a drawn-out period of silence. Everyone looked at each other, hoping not to be the one who had to explain the truth. In the end, it was Jinora who spoke.

"Lin is in the middle of surgery right now," she explained carefully. "When the bomb went off, she got hit by tons of shrapnel. Her armor managed to catch most of it, which probably saved her life. But, they managed to find a few pieces still lodged inside of her. They told us that the operation they needed to perform was risky, since removing the shrapnel could lead to more bleeding, but she would die if it wasn't taken care of. They've been going for three hours. We haven't heard any updates since then."

The room grew silent again. Korra felt the guilt in her mind grow. She felt helpless, and the truth was that she _was_ helpless. All she could do was sit and wait around as strangers sliced open her friend and prodded inside of her friend with scalpels and tweezers. Her friends shared her dread, at least the ones that knew what was going on. Tenzin and Pema weren't going to return for two more days. Asami, Zhu Li and Varrick were out flying somewhere in the southern Earth Kingdom. Suyin and her family were back in Zaofu. It hurt knowing that Lin could very well die stranded from those she cared about.

"Hey, have you guys contacted my parents?" Korra asked in realization.

"I called right after they brought you here," Bolin said. "I told them you were alright."

"Thanks," said Korra. "And Asami?"

Bolin laughed nervously. "Oh, yeah, I talked to her."

"And?"

"Well, I don't think she took it too well…"

* * *

Asami was concerned. Okay, maybe "concerned" wasn't the most appropriate term for lying face down in the middle of a cramped bedroom on an airship full of people she hated fearing desperately for the safety of loved ones hundreds of miles away. Perhaps "freaked the fuck out" was what she would have used. She gripped her silk sheets tightly. One of the benefits Shang was kind enough to give her was her own stylishly-designed private bedroom, equipped with a work desk, radio, and even a mini-fridge full of exotic drinks and fruits. What she appreciated most, however, was that she could be terrified for her friends' safety without being disturbed.

Several hours earlier in the day, in the midst of a lengthy, highly-important conversation with Varrick, she received a phone call from Bolin. She had practically been locked in her own world for the past two days, having been too caught up in her work to even turn on the radio. Naturally, his message was a bit startling. "Hey, Asami, it's me," he had said with an eerie calmness to his voice. "I'm not sure if you've been keeping up with the news or anything. Probably not. But look… Korra and Lin might _kinda_ be in the hospital right now. Uh, don't worry. They're fine. I think—"

That was the only part of the message Asami had been able to hear before her mind completely went blank, and she started screaming incoherently at him. Poor Bolin, in a panic, promptly hung up, saying something about Korra calling her back later that day. Ever since, she had been lying in her room, waiting. She wished she had gotten some details out of Bolin before she cut him off. "In the hospital" could mean any number of things. For all she knew, Korra could have passed out to due dehydration, or gotten cut in half with a chainsaw. She felt sick. She told herself to stop worrying, that Lin and Korra were probably fine, but she simply could not. Her mind was restless, shooting images into her head of a bloody, mutilated Korra lying on a cool metal sheet and doctors hurriedly stitched her back together.

But then, the phone by her bedside began too ring. As fast as she could muster, she ripped the device off of the receiver, and held it to her ear.

"Hello? Hello?" she asked shakily.

"Hey, babe," Korra replied from the other end. Asami immediately noticed that something was wrong with her based on the sound of her voice. It was too soft compared to her usual brash tone.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Asami quickly asked. "Because Bolin called earlier, and he said that you were in the hospital, and—"

"I'm okay," Korra responded soothingly. "Trust me, I'm fine. You can calm down."

"You're not fine. If you were fine, you wouldn't be there."

"Look, I got hurt a little. I passed out, but I'm better now."

"A little? Please, define that for me."

Korra sighed. "I… got attacked by a… nail bomb."

Asami lost it. "A nail bomb!? How does that, under any circumstances, constitute as 'a little' hurt?"

"Well, to be fair, it mostly missed. The only injury I really got was one nail piercing my small intestine." Asami took a slow, deep breath. Korra winced. "That didn't help at all, did it?"

Asami sat on the bed, and rested her head in her palm. Her anger gave way to depression. "How did this happen?" she whispered, aware that shouting on a crowded airship was most likely highly inappropriate. "I leave for one day, and all of this goes down. I just don't get it…"

"It was a sneak attack during the press conference—"

"What press conference? I told you, I'm out of the loop."

Korra explained to Asami what had transpired since she had left. She told her about the growing relevance of the Hanzi Killer. She told her about the craze of the media, the missing victims, and the general encompassing fear within the city. She even told her about her Bombshell Babe of the Year award, hoping to get even the slightest uplifting reaction, but received little more than a sigh. When all was said and done, Asami remained quiet. Korra patiently waited on the other end of the line.

Asami closed her eyes. "I'm coming back."

"What?" Korra asked in shock.

"I'm coming back," Asami repeated. "There's an emergency vehicle located in the bow. I'll tell Shang that I had to break off the meeting, and I can probably get back to Republic City by tomorrow."

"Hold on a second. You can't just come home."

"Why can't I? Korra, you're _hurt_. A serial killer just put a _nail_ in your chest. And Lin is…" Asami paused. The truth was that Lin's safety had barely crossed her mind. She knew she should care far more than she did, and she hated it. "I at least have to be there for her. I can't just sit around knowing that she's like that."

"You aren't just sitting around," Korra reminded her. "You're working to save your company, remember? I know it's hard, but you need to stay focused on your work."

"Where is this coming from?" Asami asked, surprised. "I thought you would want me to come back."

"Of course I want you to come back," stated Korra, who was startled by the words coming out of her own mouth. "But, this isn't about what I want. This is about what's important for you. And… I think we both know that you need to be there, on that airship."

"I… I don't know. This doesn't feel right. I mean, we're _engaged_ now. I should be there with you, always. That's why I proposed to you: so we wouldn't be apart."

"And I love that about you, believe me," Korra insisted. "Hell, if I could, I would never even leave your side. But we both have other things that we've dedicated our lives to as well. You _need_ to get your company back up and running no matter what, and I need to get this city back into balance."

"But you're—"

"Yeah, I'm wounded," Korra interjected, "but I'm getting better. I'll be back on my feet by tomorrow, and even if I'm still not all there, it's not like I'm facing this all on my own. We called it 'Team Avatar' for a reason."

"Right," Asami sighed. "But that means they can all get hurt, too."

"Just another reason why you should stay away," said Korra. "They care about you just like I do. I'm sure they would want you to stay safe. They know the risks of being involved, and I doubt anyone would want you endangering yourself just because they got hurt. Can you imagine what Beifong would say if you came all the way home because of _her_? She would rip your head off."

Asami stayed silent. Korra had a point. She did not like that point at all, but she had to admit that the Avatar was right. If she left, Future Industries would sink. That was her top priority. Republic City could handle a serial killer or two. They had dealt with far worse.

She sighed in defeat. "Just… promise me that you'll stay safe, okay?"

"Hey, think about who you're talking to," Korra teased. Asami could practically hear her smirk. "I takes a lot more than a rusty nail to slow me down."

"Right," Asami said, half-smiling. "Now, if the Hanzi Killer ever attacked you with some pink lipstick, then we'd all be screwed."

"Exactly," Korra laughed. She paused. "Hey, a doctor's coming in. I gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Asami hung up the phone, and threw the silky covers over her body. She heard her door creak open. The ever-calculating face of Zhu Li popped into the room.

"Hey, is everything alright with you?" she asked with mild concern. "You've been up here all day."

"I'm fine," Asami said bluntly.

"Are you sure? I thought I heard shouting. Did Korra call you back?"

"I'm okay," Asami insisted. "I just… need to be alone for a while."

Zhu Li raised an eyebrow. Asami was never this distressed by anything before. Nevertheless, she shrugged and closed the door. She walked all of two feet away when Shang jumped in front of her, startling her.

"What's the deal with Sato?" he asked inconsiderately. "She gonna bail on us or what?"

"I think she's just upset about all of those attacks in Republic City," Zhu Li stated. "They said on the radio that her fiancé got caught up in one."

"Well, I hope she's in a good mood to get back to work tomorrow. Those parts aint gonna fix themselves."

"Give her some time, won't you? She's concerned enough as it is. Haven't you ever been worried about someone you cared about?"

Shang looked at Zhu Li with an incredulous glance. He blinked once, then twice, and then suddenly burst into an uproarious laughter. He attempted to speak, but could not maintain his composure. Instead, her merely turned one hundred and eighty degrees, and walked away, laughing like a madman.


	16. Brainstorm

**Note: Well, that was a longer break than we were anticipating. Sorry for the delay, but we have been caught up with a lot of other work as of late. You might want to read the last few chapters to refresh yourself on the story, because we jump right in without much explanation. That being said, enjoy and leave feedback if you can. we highly appreciate it.**

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Korra asked worriedly. Lin took another sip of water from a cup she shakily held in her left hand.

"Like I have razor blades in my stomach," she responded bluntly. The truth was that Lin _had_ razor blades in her stomach; two of them, in fact. She also had three more in multiple limbs, several shards of glass buried in her skin, and four nails plunged into her muscle structure. She had been under a surgical knife for the better part of fourteen hours, where she was peeled apart and stapled back together again. Three healers watched over her constantly, stopping her from bleeding to death while doctors picked at her like birds. After that, she lied unconscious for thirty hours straight, before finally waking up two hours prior, cursing like a sailor at everyone around her in a state of confusion and pain. All in all, it had not been a very good week for her.

"You probably shouldn't be thinking about this," Korra said. "No one will blame you for wanting more time to rest."

"I think I've slept more in the past few days than I have my whole life. Besides, if what you saw was real, then we don't have any time to spare."

"'We'? As in, you're actually going to let me help?"

"It would be pretty horrible of me not to."

Korra attempted to keep her excitement to herself. She had to, for Lin was the only other person in the room, and she did not think it would be very respectable to rub it in to someone who had nearly died. On the outside, she maintained a pleasant smirk. On the inside, she was screaming in victory. Lin was letting her on the Hanzi Killer case. She could actually participate in stopping the murders that haunted Republic City. The feeling of gratification was almost enough to make her ignore the stabbing pain in her side, and the fact that her fiancé was probably having nightly panic attacks thousands of miles away.

"I'll do whatever you need of me, boss," Korra responded happily.

"You can start by getting me more water," Lin groaned, holding out her empty cup. Korra nodded and walked over to the sink. She turned on the faucet, and a steady stream of water flowed out from it. With a flick of her arm, the liquid flew across the room and filled the chief's cup, from which the tired woman drank with haste.

"So… do you want to get into this, or what?"

"Wait until Mako gets back," Lin stated. When Lin had first awoken, she ordered everyone around her out, with Korra as the exception. In addition, she gave Mako specific instructions to head to the precinct and bring back all of the files he could on the Hanzi Killer case and the explosion that nearly killed her in the first place.

"He's taking forever," Korra complained. "Can't we at least start discussing it now?"

"Mako is officially assigned to this case, not you. We wait for him."

Korra sighed. Mako left an hour ago. She could only sit around in one room for so long without going insane. She needed to be active so that she would not rot away where she sat. Lin was not saying anything, whether to save her strength or because she simply did not feel like talking. So, Korra sat alone to her thoughts. She sat alone for a good seven minutes. For seven frustratingly boring minutes she sat and waited for Mako's blubbering butt to get back to the hospital. With every passing tension, she felt more uncomfortable in the silence, with Lin occasionally staring at her in silence.

She tapped impatiently against her chair. "Uh, your sister called earlier. She said that she was worried and you should call her back when you wake up."

"I will, eventually."

"Right," Korra said, swinging her feet back and forth. She pursed her lips and glanced at the clock. Unfortunately, the fundamental laws of reality had not magically shifted in the past few seconds, and she had not been spontaneously transported into the future.

"How are you feeling?" Korra asked.

Lin raised an eyebrow. "You already asked that."

"Just checking in. Just checking in."

Korra rested her face upon her fist, her fingers wrapped around her arm and strumming against her elbow. She looked back at the clock. Twelve seconds had passed. She felt like she was about to lose her mind.

"Um… did you hear that I was awarded Bombshell Babe of the Year?"

Suddenly, there came a knock on the door. Without wasting a moment, Korra scrambled to the door, and threw it open. Mako took only a single step into the room before Korra squeezed him tightly, nearly knocking the folders he carried onto the floor.

"Thank goodness you actually came!" she said in relief. "What took you so long? The police station isn't that far."

"It's rush hour," Mako said defensively. "Plus, the forensics unit was just finishing up their investigation of the bombing. I wanted to make sure everything was up to date for you."

"Well, at least he is considerate," Lin shrugged. "Hand that over. Let's see what you got."

Mako carefully handed Lin the selection of folders in his possession, making sure that she did not strain herself while trying to read them. Korra noticed that she read each page in excruciating detail, as if she was searching for something very specific.

"What have you got?" Korra asked intently.

"Well, most of this is stuff we already know about the Killer's identity," said Lin. "We know the Killer has residency in Republic City, and he has been able to break into homes without any signs of forced entry. The reports don't list any new connections between the victims aside from the method in which they were killed." There's nothing linking the kidnapped victims either. Are you sure this is everything the unit managed to get together, Mako?"

"Pretty sure," Mako said with a sigh. "I don't think anyone there has any idea where to start searching for clues. It all seems like the victims were chosen at pure random."

"But they weren't killed randomly," said Korra. "You said that they were all killed the same way, and then shown off in the same way. That blood writing has to have some meaning behind it, aside from just being a way to gather attention."

"Obviously," Lin nodded. "But whatever that meaning is supposed to be, that freak seems to want to keep it to himself."

"I'm sure we could piece it together if we just think hard enough," Korra said confidently. She did not join this case only to immediately get stumped with a lack of information. A lack of information had never stopped her before. What they needed was a brainstorming session, where they could throw out every idea imaginable, no matter how ludicrous it might seem. Asami often told her that she always overthought things to a ridiculous degree. Well, she thought, what better time than now to put it to use? After all, they weren't getting far anyway.

"Let's think about this: What does the writing tell us about the Killer?" Korra asked aloud. "It tells us he's a perfectionist. He sees extreme negative qualities in people that we usually don't see. Like, why did he write 'envy' for one of the victims? Was she envious of something that he had, or was it maybe the other way around? And why wasn't there anything written for Lin when she was attacked with that metal bomb?"

"Those are a lot of questions, but we don't have any answers for them," Mako said dishearteningly. "We could be here all day trying to build a psych profile for this guy, but in the end, we'd still have to check it against everyone in the city, because we don't have any leads."

"You have one lead," Korra said, a sudden idea popping into her head.

"No, we don't."

"Yeah, you do," Korra stated with certainty. "All of the three victims were mutilated, but according to your reports, none of them died from blood loss."

"True. The autopsies showed that—even though they were severely wounded—they passed away from either shock or asphyxiation."

"Well, if we know that those injuries were caused before their deaths, and if they were really as bad as you made them out to be—"

"They were," Mako confirmed, a shudder running up his spine.

"Then," Korra continued, feeling her enthusiasm grow, "that would mean that all of those wounds would have had to be non-lethal, or would have had to be treated with care if they were so that the victim would say alive. The Killer would have to have reasonable medical knowledge of the human body so that they wouldn't accidentally kill the victim early."

Mako and Lin exchanged glances. Mako stammered, "That's… that's actually a really good point, Korra."

"Do you think the Hanzi Killer is really a doctor?" Lin asked with suspicion.

"I think checking anyone with a degree in medicine would be a good start," Korra suggested, feeling proud for putting the pieces together. However, while Mako seemed gratified that there was finally a lead, she couldn't help but notice that Lin was not very amused with the theory.

"Lin, why are you making that face?" she asked worriedly. "That's the face that says, 'You're an idiot, Korra.'"

"I think you _are_ on to something," Lin clarified. "It's just that there's something bugging me. That bombing during the press conference sticks out like a sore thumb."

"How so?"

It's hard to explain. When you saw the bomb, you said that it looked like it was made of strong metal, right?"

"I couldn't really tell from the brief look I got at it, but it looked strong and metallic enough. Why do you want to know?"

"That's strange, isn't it?" asked Lin. "The killer used a nail bomb made of metal."

"I don't get why that's stranger than it being covered in writing and trying to kill you."

"Think about it. Let's say you were building a bomb, and you wanted the explosion to create a lot of shrapnel. Wouldn't you want to create the casing out of something easily breakable, like glass or aluminum? If you construct it out of metal, then it would dampen the force of the explosion."

"It didn't look very dampened to me," Korra commented. However, she quickly caught on to Lin's train of thought. "Wait, I think I get it. You're saying that only someone who didn't know what they were doing would ever try to build something a bomb like that."

"Either someone who had no clue what they were doing," Lin clarified, "or someone who knew exactly how to manipulate the device to create a more powerful explosion. If the Killer was just a doctor, then I would expect them to make an amateur mistake like that. But that bomb _wasn't_ a dud. Not only did that thing blast at full force, but it penetrated through my uniform. The only way for someone to make an effective nail bomb out of metal would be if they knew a lot about mechanical engineering and the craft of explosives, and I could only assume that it would be hard to master both that and surgical training needed to cut someone into ribbons without murdering them."

"So… you think the bomb maker is a demolitions expert," said Mako with an understanding nod.

"I don't think it's _a_ demolitions expert," stated Lin, scanning through the police files once again. "There was only one person I ever knew who understood explosives well enough to make a nail bomb out that powerful. I just need to see if the forensics team found a—here it is!"

With a shaky hand, Lin pointed to one of the documents in her possession. Mako read through the findings. There were the typical findings related to an explosive: gunpowder, flint, and the remains of copper wiring. However, the report also claimed that a spring lock mechanism, which Lin directed towards.

"Korra, I don't think the bomb went off on a timer," Lin explained. "That clicking you heard before the detonation was actually the bomb priming itself with a series of springs." Korra looked at the Chief quizzically. Lin continued. "The reason the bomb was made of metal was so that it could contain extra pieces of machinery. It's something called a Basteln Explosive. You separate a canister into various sections and rig them all to a series of springs. You fill the metal with gunpowder and shrapnel. Then, once the device is triggered, the springs rapidly tumble the canister, building kinetic energy, before finally separating the panels and triggering an explosion. It lets the shrapnel carry ore penetration power, thus making the force of the impact greater than a typical bomb."

Korra stared at Lin with all of her might, trying to put the words together in her mind. She could not.

"So, that's great," Korra said, unsure of her words. "That means that we know the Killer was specifically targeting you, right? I don't get why that's important."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Lin admitted, "but Mako should."

She glanced knowingly at the detective, who was following along the best he could. "Wait, are you suggesting that Valos did it?"

"Valos?" Korra asked.

"Valos Basteln," said Mako. "He was a member of the bomb squad in Republic City up until a few years ago. He was this bigger, balding guy with thick glasses. He wasn't very good at being social, but he was phenomenal at his job."

"Until he nearly killed us all," Lin said distastefully. "Valos was the kind of guy that you never really wanted to be around unless you had to. He was always obsessed with explosives, and everything about them. We all called him, 'The Tinkerer'. He could pretty much find any kind of bomb in the world, take it completely apart, and put it back together like it was brand new. He even invented a few types of explosive on his own, one of which was the beauty that nearly killed us two days ago. However, we had to let him off the force three years ago for… reasons that I'd rather not talk about."

"You won't talk about them because you can't legally or morally?" Korra asked, intrigued.

"Both," Lin said with a scowl. "Let's just say that you won't be seeing him around any playgrounds for a while."

Korra shuddered. "So… I take it that this Tinkerer guy must have been pretty angry about that. Do you think that's why he tried to kill you?"

"Well, that would make sense," Lin mused. "I did pretty much throw him out on the street. I can assume he didn't take it too well."

"Plus, he would have known about our security protocols," Mako stated. "That's how he could slip a bomb into the podium the night before without getting caught. He knew exactly how to bypass us from experience."

"So, let's book 'em, right?" Korra said with enthusiasm. "We know he has to be the Hanzi Killer because of the bomb. Hell, we even have a motivation for him to do it."

"That's the other problem," Lin said with a sigh. "Valos definitely has reasons to dislike me, but all of this happened three years ago. I've had people keep track of him, but I haven't personally seen the guy in a long time. Not only that, but we don't have anything connecting him to the other victims. A grudge against me is fine; plenty of people hate my guts. But, that doesn't explain everything else. Besides, a few years ago, it was reported to me that he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He can barely hold a pair of chopsticks, let alone perform the delicate surgery that you think the Killer performed."

"He did make a bomb though," Mako added.

"He could have told someone else how to make it," Lin said. "Or, maybe it was something he kept in storage for a rainy day. Valos being responsible for everything just doesn't add up when you put all of the pieces together, and aside from the bombing, there is nothing to suggest that he's responsible for any of this."

"So, you're saying that _he_ isn't the Killer, either," Korra said, feeling suddenly drained of energy. She rested her head against the nearby wall. Every time they seemed to get close, something else swooped in and shut them down. It was infuriating. She missed the days of being able to clearly identify what was trying to kill her. Would it be so difficult to return to those times?

"Hey, cheer up, Korra," Mako said. "Think about it like this: We have two new leads thanks to you."

"Yeah, I know," Korra sighed. "It's just that it's so… _tedious_."

"Welcome to the magical land of police work," Lin said with a smirk. "Five percent: action. Ninety-five percent: the most boring fucking paperwork you'll ever see in your life."

"At least we have somewhere to start again," Mako said. "I could start an investigation into every licensed and studying surgeon in the city. I'll see if I could draw up any connections we haven't seen yet."

"Good thinking," said Lin. "Why don't you get that partner of yours to get a lead on the Tinkerer's whereabouts. That shouldn't be too hard for the rookie."

Mako saluted. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He collected the files from Lin's lap, and moved towards the doorway. Korra jumped after him.

"I'll help you with—"

"Wait," Lin instructed forcefully, despite her frail appearance. "I have something else I need you to do."

Like a child denied of sweets, Korra watched in agony as Mako left the dreariness of the hospital without her. She turned back towards Lin, and brushed the sweat she hadn't noticed was pooling off of her face.

"What do you need of me?" she asked as politely as she could manage.

"Korra, I want you to go visit the families of the most recent victims, and give them your condolences."

Korra raised an eyebrow. "I… I thought you said you wanted me to help out with the investigation. We have two leads open—"

"And they're being taken care of. I think it would be best if you went to spend time with the grieving families. Usually, in cases like these, I go myself, but as you can see, I'm not really in the best condition to do that. However, if the Avatar goes to visit them, it might help ease their pain, even just a bit."

"Look, it's not that I don't want to do this," Korra said calmly. "Believe me, I gladly would at any other time if it meant helping some of these people. It's just that I think there are so many places I'm needed more."

"Not for those families," Lin said sternly. "It won't take long. Some of them might not even want to talk to you, but you should go anyway. Just seeing that you care and are focused on solving this case will do wonders for them." Lin paused for a moment. "And… maybe if you ask kindly, they might have some more information you can use."

Korra closed her eyes. "Okay, fair point. I'll go out and speak with them tomorrow, if they let me out of this stupid hospital first. I just hope you realize that I'm not the best cry-on-your-shoulder kind of person."

"Neither am I," Lin said bluntly. "Still, a little bit of heart goes a long way."

Korra nodded. There were a few moments of awkward silence, before Lin finally stated, "You can leave now."

Without a moment of hesitation, Korra thanked the Chief for her opportunity, turned around, and walked out of the forsaken hospital room, a mission and purpose clear on her mind.


	17. Reflections

**Note: We're back! Again! We will have another chapter done hopefully by the end of the month, so in the meantime, just read, review if you can, and enjoy.**

* * *

Asami stared at herself in the mirror. It had been thirty-six hours since Korra had called, thirty six hours since she discovered that her fiancé nearly died. Asami had spent a lot of those hours by herself. It wasn't particularly difficult. Her room was located at the far end of the ship, and the grunts of the workers were blocked out by the constant hum of the engines. The only person who occasionally bothered her was Shang, who sometimes knocked on her door and yelled at her to get working. Hopefully, she had told him off enough times that he wouldn't come back. She didn't think she was fully prepared to get back to work, and looking at her reflection, she felt ever-more sure.

She had just stepped out of the shower, her body glistening and damp hair strung across her shoulders in a tangled mess. A green towel was wrapped around her torso, and mist filled the room, keeping her relatively warm. Stripped bare and pure, she saw just how rough around the edges she appeared. She looked thinner than usual after having not eaten since the phone call, and dark bags rested under her normally bright green eyes. Her face was drained of color, and she noticed that her posture was more hunched and deteriorative. Her long nails were also reduced, having been bitten often over the past few nights.

"Girl, you look like a mess," Asami sighed. She absolutely despised looking hideous, and she nearly gagged at how dreary she had let herself get in merely a few days. She studied herself intently for a solution. The bags under her eyes could be hidden with enough eyeshadow, and with some blush her face would seem less pale. She was going to be wearing gloves, so the nails were not a relevant concern for the time being. Her clothes would cover her smaller frame completely, and she straightening her posture would simply require enough focus and dedication.

However, she did realize something: There wasn't really any reason why she needed to physically impress anyone at all. The only people she saw were Varrick, Zhu Li, and Shang. Varrick only cared about her skills with a wrench, Zhu Li only cared about her wellbeing, and she didn't care enough about Shang to worry about his feelings. Putting on make-up was something she had done her entire life. Whether she was going to a dance or going drag-racing, she dressed up like a gleaming star. It was something her mother told her a long time ago.

"No matter what I do, I always make sure I look like the best one doing it," she had said to her one night. "People will always respect a woman who displays elegance in all aspects of her life."

Asami mused on the comment. She viewed her mother as radiant and beautiful in her memories, so the advice was clearly effective. As Asami stared at herself in the mirror, she felt uneasy. The person looking back at her was a mess of a human being. That person was an emotional wreck whose face held nothing but worry and regret. She pursed her lips. She was not going to be her reflection anymore.

She strolled out of her bathroom, walked straight to her closet, and rummaged through the twenty or so outfits she had brought with her. Everything was so fancy, so impractical to what she needed. Korra had been helping her reduce her overall travel load, and for years Asami had stressed the importance of every piece of cloth and hair product she brought with her. Now, in light of things, she was starting to see Korra's point. She threw away the skirts, threw away the fancy underwear, and threw away the high heels. She grabbed the most basic set of clothes she could find—a white tank top she usually reserved for an undershirt, gray slacks and an aging pair of flats—and threw them on without a second thought. Then, she marched to her dresser, grabbed her make-up kit, and scooped out a handful of supplies. She applied the foundation with a steady hand, watching the color magically appear on her face. As she brushed on her eyeshadow and smeared on her lipstick, she couldn't help but feel like she was applying war paint. Within minutes she saw a healthy young woman staring back at her through the mirror, the horrid, frightened figure gone from view. Asami smirked.

"That looks better," she said aloud. Her other self smirked back at her. "Now, let's see if you can get some actual work done for once."

Asami confidently walked out of her room, and passed through the dimly lit halls towards the front of the ship. The center lounge had been reconstructed into a workshop of sorts for the crew to work on their projects. Where there used to be a couch, multiple chairs, and even a bar, there now laid workbenches and metal strewn about in every direction. It wasn't the easiest place to work. The airship occasionally rocked severely from strong gusts of wind, sending every item on the tables sailing to the floor. Still, it made due for their needs, and made Asami feel ever so closer to home.

Naturally, the first thing Asami saw upon entering the makeshift workshop was a screaming contest between Varrick and Shang, and Zhu Li shaking her head in a corner.

"That has to be the worst idea I've ever heard!" screamed Varrick, pointing his finger directly into Shang's face. Shang swatted it way and leaned in close.

"My idea is fine. _You_ just can't accept it because your brain is the size of a walnut!" he retorted with a growl.

"_You're_ the walnut!" replied Varrick. "Don't you know anything about the second law of thermodynamics? Your plan would never work."

"I don't follow laws," said Shang. "Laws follow _me_."

"Play nice, you two," Asami called out, walking past them towards what remained of the bar. She strolled behind the counter, opened the secret fridge underneath, and pulled out the coldest, most sugar-filled drink she could find.

"I'm trying to be nice," Shang insisted. "_Someone_ isn't being cooperative."

"I'm cooperative to people who have basic scientific knowledge," Varrick said, outraged. "We don't have time to waste on his stupid ideas."

"My ideas aren't stupid. They're well-defined and meticulously crafted!"

The two instantly began screaming at each other once more, their voices drowning out any peaceful thought Asami previously had. She groaned, taking a quick sip of her drink to gain some much-needed energy. She scowled and spoke as sternly as she could, "Cut it out. You're acting like children."

Shang whined, "But he started it—"

"No buts," Asami stated forcefully. "We are here to work together, and that is what I intend to do. You both promised that you wouldn't rip each other's throats out while we were together. Shang, listen to Varrick; he has more engineering experience than you. Varrick, be respectful… and don't call him a walnut."

"He is a walnut," Varrick complained.

"No. He's a valued member of this team, and his opinion and ideas are just as valued just as much as everyone; maybe even more, considering that he's paying for this. Got it?"

Varrick sighed. "Okay, maybe walnut was a bit extreme… peanut probably would have been better. Or maybe hazelnuts. Cashews? Pecans? Zhu Li! Make a list of nuts that serve as viable insults, starting in alphabetical order!"

"Varrick…" Asami said threatening. The water-tribe billionaire took one look into Asami's fierce green eyes, and groaned.

"Fine. No nut-based insults," he said disheartened. "Zhu Li, cancel that list for me."

"I never even got started," said Zhu Li.

"Good, then you're ahead of schedule!" Varrick said in delight. "Back to work we go."

Varrick quickly moved to the nearest workbench, and started tossing metal around the table. Shang grunted something incoherently, and went to do his own work. Asami sighed. She supposed it was an improvement, at the very least. She guzzled down more of her beverage, and approached Zhu Li, shaking her head.

"I cannot believe you actually married that person," she said as respectfully as possible.

"Sometimes, neither can I," said the former assistant. "How are you holding up?"

"A lot better than I was before."

"I'd say so. You look better."

Asami smiled. "Thanks. It makes things easier knowing that she at least has everyone there for her."

"That, and she could probably demolish all of Republic City with her bare hands," Zhu Li added.

"Well, that too," said Asami, feeling a weird sensation of pride float through the back of her head. "How has everything been coming along?"

"You know that conversation you just witnessed? It's pretty much been that for the past few days."

"That bad, huh?"

"I don't get it," Zhu Li sighed. "No matter what happens, those two can't along at all. Even if they're working on something they both like, they'll find some way to hate each other. It's almost like they are destined to hate each other."

"Well, it kind of makes sense," Asami thought aloud. "I mean, when you get right down to it, they are pretty much the same person."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Zhu Li asked suspiciously. Asami quickly backtracked, her cheeks turning a bright red.

"I… I just meant that they're kind of similar, that's all. I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

Zhu Li scowled. "You're telling me that my husband is just like that arrogant jerk who's forcing us on this trip. How am I not supposed to be offended by that?"

"Sorry," Asami said hurriedly. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear. I just meant that they can both get a bit egotistical at times. I'm not saying that's an insult."

"It sure sounds like it," Zhu Li stated bitterly. Her normally emotionless exterior was steadily breaking down. Two days of non-stop arguments had been slowly pushing her patience to a boiling point. Every night, she had to listen to Varrick whine consistently about how big of an idiot Shang was, and every day, she was forced to work with that constant stupidity to ensure that her friend's company did not fall out from under her. For years, she had worked for her husband under constant stress, always managing to push her hardships down beneath the surface. But this horrible, pain-inducing trip was proving too much for her. It felt like there were two completely separate, equally-terrible Varricks yelling constantly at anything and everything. Granted, that was exactly what Asami was trying to tell her (more politely, of course), but she didn't need audible confirmation of it. Simply being reminded of this immense pressure was enough to make her begin to crack, like a mirror being repeatedly bashed in over and over until her reflection had broken into a hundred pathetic shards.

Zhu Li pushed away the reality from her head; she wouldn't last another day if she let it be true. "Iknik is not like Shang. He can be abrasive sometimes, and maybe even cruel, but he only because he _cares_. He cares about me, he cares about his work, and he cares about making the best inventions he possibly can. Shang doesn't care about _any_ of this. He doesn't care if your company goes under, or how he makes a profit, or how many people get hurt along the way. He's just an unforgiving, brash, selfish, megalomaniacal, impulsive, intolerant, worthless piece of crap. So yes, Asami; saying my husband and Shang are alike is _very _insulting to me."

Asami remained silent as Zhu Li's brow twitched and she involuntary cracked the joints in her fingers one-by-one. She took a quick sip of her beverage to ease the awkward silence. She wondered how much she had truly missed for someone as calm and collected as Zhu Li to snap at the drop of a hat.

"Uh, you know Zhu Li," she said with a nervous laugh, "_I'm_ supposed to be the emotional wreck here."

Zhu Li took a breath through gritted teeth. "Sorry. Being trapped on this airship is starting to get to me."

"Hey, it's what we do for the people we love, right?" said Asami, trying to sound cheerful. Zhu Li took a long look at her, her brown eyes filled with no discernable emotion.

"I suppose you're right," she finally stated, turning her head. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. Watch yourself, Asami. If you were stressed out before, you are going to be in for a big surprise."

Zhu Li strolled towards her husband, moving with clean, precise movements. Asami watched her as she passed, not sure whether to be enthusiastic or terrified. She decided to withhold judgment until she got back into her usual habits. At the very least, she was going back to work, and that was something positive to look forward to. She looked out the large, rectangular window, and watched the sun as it rose slowly over the mountains. The airship was scheduled to make a stop in the lower Earth Kingdom first, before making its way to the Fire Nation. Once that was done, she could finally return home. She smiled at the thought of being back in Republic City, with her fiancé eagerly awaiting her arrival. It filled her with hope.

But then, her eye caught her reflection in the window, and that smile soon faded away. A miserable creature stared back at her through the glass. The creature was pale and frightened, staring back at her with almost luminescent green eyes. She read a single, dominant expression within them: guilt. A voice taunted her in the back of her head; her voice.

"_It's what we do for the people we love, right?"_

Asami turned away quickly, blocking the demon out. A pain welled in her chest. She knew there was no time to be thinking of _that_. She already had enough to worry about. Pushing the dark thoughts back into the recesses of her mind, Asami finished off her beverage, and went back to work.

* * *

Mako's head was swimming in paperwork. He had examined the files of seventy-three practicing surgeons in Republic City, searching for any clue that could lead to them being the Hanzi Killer. However, he had found not an ounce of evidence to suggest that they had committed any crime at all. Worse, he still had to perform checks on eighty-eight more practicing surgeons, in addition to the countless nurses, assistants, medical students, and retired surgeons that could very likely also be the Killer. It was a tiring, thankless job, yet it had to be done to find proper justice.

Next to him, poor Chen also worked tirelessly. He was given his first major assignment by the Chief, and he wasn't going to screw it up. Luckily for him, the job did not require any extraneous physical activity, so he was rather confident he could get it done. All he had to do was track down Valos Basteln, the "Tinkerer" as he was so called. Although the search was dull, he was kept enthralled merely by the concept of working on a legitimate case, and that excitement drove him to work as hard as he could every minute of every day until Basteln was found and captured.

"Any luck yet?" Mako asked his partner.

"Not yet, but I'm getting close," said Chen with a grin. "This Tinkerer guy is slippery. He could be anywhere in Republic City."

"At least you're only searching for one person," Mako groaned. "How does Lin expect me to even tell these people apart? I can only double check psych profiles and alibies for a handful of them. It's more like searching for a haystack within Republic City, and then finding a needle within that haystack."

"Maybe there's something else you're missing," Chen suggested. "Like, do any of them have an affinity for the macabre? The strange? The unusual?"

"How would I know that? Unless I interrogate every single doctor in the city, then I would have no way of knowing."

"Oh, what if you search for people who grew up in crime-ridden areas?"

"There is no direct correlation between where someone grows up and how they act. That's stereotyping the prosecuted. We can't use that as part of the investigation."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, look at me. Just a year ago, I was wasting away in Jackdaw's Den, and now I'm helping one of the coolest detectives in the world stop crime."

"Thanks," Mako said happily. But then, something clicked in the back of his mind. "Wait a minute, Chen. Did you say 'Jackdaw's Den'?"

"Well, it's not what that district is officially called, but—" Chen stammered, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

"I've heard of that place before," Mako said, the pieces connecting before him. "Right before we arrested Rei. He said that he was working for some 'big guy' ruling over a place called Jackdaw's Den. What is that place?"

"Look, I don't really think I can tell you."

"Because no one rats on each other in Jackdaw's Den?" Mako asked suspiciously. Chen shook his head.

"No, it's not that. I just… don't have a lot to tell you, that's all. It's not something people really liked to talk about that much. That's why I left. It was too scary to live there."

Mako sighed. Something about Jackdaw's Den was calling out to him. On a whim, he reached over to his phone, and dialed in the number for the hospital. He waited impatiently through the string of nurses to hook up the call to where it needed to go. Three minutes later, he heard Lin's annoyed sigh on the other end.

"What do you want, Mako?" she asked tiredly. Mako assumed that she must have just gotten up from a long sleep.

"Chief, I have a question for you," he told her.

"In regards to the Killer? I think you can handle that yourself," she said halfheartedly.

"No, it's more personal," Mako explained "Do you know anything important about an area of the city called Jackdaw's Den?"

Lin stayed silent for a moment. She grunted and groaned, "I'm sorry. I just woke up. I don't think I heard you right. You didn't just say 'Jackdaw's Den', did you?"

"I, uh, _did_ say that, Chief."

"Under what circumstances did you hear that name?' she asked, leaving Mako stunned; he heard an undertone of fear emanating from her voice.

"I… I heard it from that man Rei we suspected of being the Killer, and just recently from Chen. He said he managed to get out of it just last year, whatever _it_ is."

"Jackdaw's Den has been operational for a year?" Lin repeated in hushed tones. She sounded as if she was disbelief. Mako continued nervously. He never heard such a sound of dread coming from Lin Beifong.

"I suppose so," said Mako. "I'm starting to think that whatever this place is, it might have some connection with the Hanzi Killer. At the very least, we should probably send someone to investigate it, if possible. I've also remember something Rei said about some 'big guy' running the entire region. If we can find out who this person is, maybe we can get another lead about whom the Killer is and where he operates."

"Why now?" Lin muttered under her breath, completely ignoring the detective. "Of all the times for that monster to show up again, why does it have to be now?"

"Uh, Chief?" Mako asked worriedly. "Beifong? Lin, are you okay?"

"Mako, get down to the hospital as soon as you can," Lin instructed. "If what you said is true, and Jackdaw's Den is running again, then we're going to have a whole other mess on our hands."

"But why?" asked Mako. "What's the deal with that place?"

"It's not just the place, Mako," stated Lin. "Just get over here soon. It's time you heard the story about the man who nearly killed Republic City."


	18. They Call Him Jackdaw

**Note: Here is chapter 20 of Crescendo. It's getting close to a year since we started writing this, and it has been quite the journey. We'll go back to Korra in the next chapter, but for now, here's some more of Lin and Mako. Read, review, enjoy.**

* * *

**_Republic City, Ten Years Ago_**

_As Lin drove further into the heart of Republic City, she could feel her heartbeat increase. It was only slight, but the sensation was still enough to catch her attention. She couldn't actually be feeling anxious, could she? No, that was absurd; she was far too in control of her emotions for that to be the case._

_Then again, she was hot on the trail of the biggest case in the city. The convoy of cop cars trailed behind her, sirens blazing into the midnight sky. Following her were nine senior officers, the most trained men she could gather. As the buildings around her gradually declined in quality and the citizens she passed grew to look more suspicious with each passing moment, she wondered how things had gotten to such extremes._

_It had all started the report of a man being beaten to death in his own home three months ago. He was a good, honest man found dead in his bedroom, impaled through the neck with a wooden stake and covered in cuts and bruises. Despite assigning her best detectives, she couldn't seem to gather any information at all. There were no suspects, no witnesses, no motivations, and absolutely no evidence as to why a man was murdered in his home. The press eventually caught on, and Lin fed them the story, having nothing else to do with it._

_From there, everything unraveled. More bodies began popping up in poor districts, badly beaten and killed with crude weapons. One man's eye had been pierced with a chopstick; another had his intestines cut open with a rusty saw blade. There were never any female victims. Most of the dead were larger, burly men who looked like they could take large amounts of punishment. The police uncovered two or three bodies every week at the height of the investigation. Yet, no one ever seemed to offer an explanation. When asked about their dead neighbors, the lower class of Republic City merely averted their eyes and walked away._

_And then, about a month ago, the dead police officers showed up. The first was found hanging from a street lamp, naked and defaced. The second was found floating in Yue Bay with thin slices along his net. The third was discovered under a pier, his body being feasted on by the rats that scurried beneath the city. Every man Lin sent to investigate the situation further wound up dead within the week. It was like something out of a nightmare. She did not know how to stop something she could not see or feel._

_Until, less than an hour ago, Lin Beifong received an anonymous tip over the phone from a distressed widow._

_And now she was here, speeding towards the lone destination she was informed of in the depths of the city. She always suspected something darker was at play, but now she could finally confirm it. It was finally time to stop the madness that was plaguing her city, once and for all. She only hoped her backup would be enough to handle what lied ahead. _

_By the time she arrived at the square, she could hear the booming cheers and screams of agony. Their source stood directly before her: a massive, wooden, octagonal pavilion, several dozen meters wide on each side. In the darkness, the front entrance was lit up with torches and hanging lights, almost giving off a warm, welcoming atmosphere. If it wasn't for the screaming, Lin might have assumed that it was a theater of some kind. Instead, she knew, the true horror was kept behind the large, wooden doors, away from unworthy eyes._

_Lin pulled to a stop, and on cue, the trailing cars did the same. She stepped out of her vehicle, and examined the structure intently. Lieutenant Kwo—a wise, aged officer—walked up next to her._

_"__So, that's Jackdaw's Den?" he pondered aloud. "Looks prettier than I thought it would be."_

_"__Get a good look at it now, because it won't get any nicer than this," Lin said sternly. "Get some of the men to search the perimeter. There could be almost a hundred people in there. I don't want them overwhelming us."_

_"__Gotcha," said Kwo, and he called half of the remaining officers over. "Lock down all other exits, and get two guys on the roof. No one gets in or out unless we say so." The troops nodded and rushed ahead; three snuck around the side, two launched themselves onto the roof with cables. The other four formed on Lin and Kwo, who slowly approached the main entrance._

_"__I can't believe something like this has been sitting right under our noses," muttered one of the cops._

_"__Why would someone even want to do this anyway?" asked another. "They'd have to be deranged."_

_"__If we're lucky, you can ask the leader yourself," said Lin. As they went closer, the echoes and chants grew in volume, until it drowned out all other noise in the area, even within Lin's own mind._

_"__Maybe we should have brought more backup," Kwo mused. Lin shook her head._

_"__We can handle this. We're the best and brightest on the force. Once everyone is detained, we'll contact HQ for the pickup."_

_Lin pressed her hand against the wooden door, trying to feel the vibrations coming from inside. Even without being able to use her earthbending, she could feel the entire building trembling with excitement._

_"__Don't make any moves until you get the signal, got it?" Beifong instructed. "Don't break formation. If one person panics, we'll all go down. Is everyone in position?"_

_Her men gave her nods in agreement. The radio on her belt sizzled, and the other officers waiting around the building gave their approval. Lin took a deep breath, and raised her fist._

_"__Okay, on me. One… two—"_

_"__Wait, are you just going to break the door down?" Kwo suddenly asked. "Isn't that a bit much? Couldn't we at least knock first?"_

_Lin cocked her head to the side, her face going blank. She shrugged, and lightly rapped on the door._

_"__Police. Open up," she said in a dull, unenthusiastic drone. Not even Kwo could fully hear her over the roar of the crowd. She sneered. "Well, that was worth a shot. Now, it's my turn…"_

_Without wasting a moment, Lin picked up her foot, and with one swift motion, kicked down the massive wooden doors, sending them flying into the building. As she stepped inside, the noise came to an abrupt stop. It was now clear for her to see what was causing the commotion. The entire ground floor had been stripped of furniture and covered in a thin layer of dark gravel. There was a long cord of rope laid along the floor to form a circle, roughly twenty square meters in area. Stairs were immediately to Lin's left, leading up to a balcony that wrapped around the circumference of the building. Torches hung from every corner, illuminating the crude ring in a soft, orange glow. Most notably, the entire balcony was full of drunken, violent people, who clanked drinks and cheered at the carnage below. Within the circle itself, two bloodied, shirtless men were grappling with each other over possession of a crowbar; a dozen other weapons were thrown around them, most of them already drenched in blood._

_The two men stopped their fighting the instant the Chief entered, followed by her support team. The crowd went silent. Lin scanned the faces in the crowd. She counted nearly fifty men crammed together on the balcony, all struggling for a decent view. She scoffed._

_"__So, this is how people manage to entertain themselves these days," Lin muttered under her breath. She spoke up. "Who's in charge here?"_

_She received no response. Most of the barbarians merely exchanged glances with one another, unable to determine if the officers were real or part of a drunken hallucination._

_"__I'll ask again," Lin threatened, "who is the boss here? We'd like a word with him."_

_"__I'm the boss!" called a deep voice from above. A figure pushed its way to the front of the balcony, and leapt over the railing and down into the arena. As he landed, the crowd hollered. He matched Lin's height, but was decidedly thicker, teeming with muscle mass. His face was heavily scarred, dark marks streaking down his nose and chin. His right eye was glossed over, and when he smiled, half of his teeth were missing or broken. Dark dreadlocks flowed down his back, and an equally long beard ran over his chest. His clothes were filthy, and Lin detected a horrid musk emitting from his person, as if he had bathed in mud minutes before._

_The man walked straight up to Beifong, and smirked. "Welcome to Jackdaw's Den," he boasted. "Usually, all spectators and participants must pay a small entrance fee, but we can make an exception for you, Chief."_

_"__You're the guy who runs this place?" Lin asked, unmoving._

_"__Yep," he admitted proudly. "Name's Jackdaw, and these… these are my boys over here." He motioned to the audience, who let out a collective cheer and laugh at their leader's actions. Lin remained unimpressed, but the big man continued. "Now, we weren't expecting any visitors tonight. It seems like someone must have snitched about us. That's against the rules. We'll have to pay that traitor a visit later."_

_"__We're putting a stop to this," Lin stated confidently. "These little street fights of yours are over. I'm giving you one chance to come with us peacefully. Don't test your luck."_

_"__Hmm," Jackdaw stroked his beard mockingly. "You make a strong argument, Chief. But the thing is: We like doing this. Jackdaw's Den is a vital part of our lives. We aren't just going to give it up. Right, boys?"_

_The crowd erupted into chorus of cheers. Jackdaw leaned in so that his rotten face was inches away from Lin's. Her scowl deepened as his smirk grew._

_"__This is your last warning," stated Lin once more. "You have made my life very difficult these past few months, and because of you, a lot of people ended up dead. So, either come with us quietly, or I'll make you come."_

_Jackdaw backed off, and turned away from the officers. He stroked his beard._

_"__Now, that's an interesting proposal," he pondered. "I have a better one… it involves you head hanging from my wall!" Without warning, Jackdaw snatched a nearby sword from the ground, and swung forcefully at Lin's neck. She was only barely able to duck in time, the sharp metal passing centimeters over her head. She lurched forward on instinct, planted her foot firmly in the ground, and landed a powerful uppercut to Jackdaw's chin, knocking the tyrant out cold. As his massive body hit the gravel with a thud, and the audience looked on in shock, Lin turned back to her comrades, and gave the order._

_"__Now!" _

_All at once, the ceiling burst open, and Lin's squad flooded the building from all angles. Cables were launched in every direction, locking on to any person they could find. Most of the criminals tried to flee, trampling each other to get to the stairs or throwing themselves off of the balcony. They swarmed, but the officers never gave up ground. Anyone who got close was tackled and cuffed; the rest were taken down from afar with cords wrapped tightly around their limbs._

_A few tried to attack Lin. One picked up a shovel and took wild swings at her. The metal tool slammed against his skull with a flick of her wrist. Another tried to sweep her legs, only to get a boot in the throat. They kept coming at her, and she continuously knocked them down. She lost count of how many bones she broke, how many teeth she punched out, and how many concussions she caused. Yet, in the mayhem, she was able to watch her team at work, and it brought a sadistic form of joy to her heart. The other nine were fighting with machine-like efficiency. Not a single crook managed to get past them without being broken in some form or another. She knew she was working with the best. To them, fifty men were nothing at all._

_With one final thud, everything went quiet. It wasn't until the adrenaline subsided that Lin made out the sheer number of bodies lying around her. The legendary Jackdaw's Den had been reduced to nothing in minutes. Blood and tissue coated the gravel beneath her feet. _

_"__Kwo, we're going to need some help cleaning this place up," Lin called to her companion. Kwo nodded and stepped aside to call reinforcements. Lin took a deep breath. She would sleep well that night, knowing of all the work that she did._

_But then, from off to the side, came a deep chuckle. "Oh boy… I told him these boys were a bunch of idiots."_

_Lin ground her teeth, and approached the large, hairy body from which the voice came. Jackdaw chuckled again. "Can't believe he wanted to start a rebellion with these losers. What a jackass."_

_"__What the hell are you talking about? Who wanted to start a rebellion?" asked Lin._

_"__J…Jackdaw," the boss stuttered, blood bubbling from his lips._

_Lin growled. "Jackdaw? You said you were—"_

_"__Oh no… I aint anywhere close to being the big guy. He couldn't be here tonight. Said he had to take care of some misbehaving 'associates'. Shame, I think he would have enjoyed the chaos."_

_"__Who is the guy who actually ran this place? What was his real name?"_

_"__Real names aren't important to him," said the faux leader. "But… but once he figures out that you've ruined the Den, he'll carve your intestines out and feed them to you."_

_"__Do you know where he is?" Lin asked. The large man shook his head._

_"__I aint telling you shit," he sneered. Immediately, a rough, metal boot shot into his stomach, and forced the air out of his lungs._

_"__Unless you want me to start breaking fingers next, I suggest you tell me what I want to know," Lin threatened._

_"__His… his name is Domin. Domin Kuzarov," he choked out, his tough façade fading under the immense pressure. "He lives on the end of Turtle Row, in the ashen wood house. He keeps the door unlocked; he knows that no one would ever try to steal anything from him without consequence."_

_"__Well then, I guess we won't have to be too forceful with the man," Lin muttered. She removed her boot from the defector's belly, and spoke to her troop. "Listen up. Once we get this on lockdown, we're moving out to Turtle Row. It's time we put the man responsible for everything where he belongs._

_"__You really want to go after Jackdaw? Good luck!" wheezed the bleeding man. "Word of advice, Chief. You don't know what you're getting into. Jackdaw aint just like any other criminal out there."_

_"__Save it for your lawyer," Lin sneered, and stormed out of Jackdaw's Den. She heard the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. The night was still young, and there was still one more monster left to catch: the one who started it all. She was ready to put this nightmare of a case behind her. By the time the backup arrived, she was already in her car speeding towards Turtle Row._

* * *

"So that's Jackdaw's Den," said Mako, satisfied. He leaned against the white hospital wall as Lin nodded her head.

"Fun, isn't it?" she joked. "Every weekend, they crammed as many people as they possibly could into that building to watch them beat the living crap out of each other. They were gathering good soldiers for a rebellion against the government, using the fights as some sort of screwed up training ritual. Apparently it got so bad that they started calling the entire surrounding area the same thing. A lot of people died back then."

"And this 'Jackdaw' guy, Kuzarov… he was the cause of it?"

"Yeah, he was the one who came up with the idea. Survival of the fittest mutated into its deadliest form. He was the reigning king of the battles. Every time someone seemed to rise through the ranks too quickly, he beat them into submission. It turns out that building an army was only secondary to stoking his own ego. The weirdest part: He was only a kid when he started it."

"A kid?"

"Well, nineteen," Lin corrected herself. "But he was young, brash and dangerous; the worst qualities you want someone to have on the wrong side of the law. That's why we went after him as soon as possible. We tried to bring him in without anyone else getting hurt."

"Let me guess… you never found him."

Lin sighed. "No, we found him alright. He was exactly where they said he would be. The ten of us stormed his house at one in the morning. The entire house was dark and made of thick, white wood, and the halls were so tight that we had to move in single file to reach him. We stumbled around in the darkness until we saw a red light coming from the underside of a door leading to a back room. I remember peering inside and having this terrible smell hit me. Jackdaw was there, standing over a guy chained to the wall. The man was missing his left foot; the wound was still fresh. A knife was being waved in front of his face.

"I gave the order, and three of us charged in, the others holding back. But, he didn't look surprised to see us at all. He grinned, proudly showing his work like it was some damn fine art piece. I told him everything that happened, everything we were planning on doing with him, and he wasn't fazed in the slightest. He just said, 'I'm impressed. I thought it would take you longer.' I had one of the officers go to cuff him."

Lin suddenly looked away, a pained expression taking hold. She spoke quietly. "I've never seen anyone move so fast. In the blink of an eye, there was a blade jammed into his throat, and the next thing I knew, the whole room was on fire. We had been led straight into a trap. He was a firebender, and it only took a few seconds for the flames to spread to surround us. The halls were too narrow to use our cables or gang up on him, and the foundation was too thick to dig up fresh earth to defend ourselves. I saw him charge headfirst at the others, and he carved straight through them. These were the most experienced officers on the force, and he tossed them aside like broken toys. The way he moved and fought… it was inhuman."

Lin turned back towards Mako, stricken with pain. "Ten of us walked into that building, Mako. I'm the only one who walked out. Well, me and him. I managed to drag him out by the hair before I collapsed of blood loss. I was stabbed straight through the kidney—still have the scar to show for it. I watched a lot of good men die that day. And that monster… he got away with everything."

"I thought you said you dragged him out of that building?" Mako asked sensitively. It was unsettling to see the Chief so shaken up about something. She had seen so much that it was easy to think she had gone numb to everything. "Do you mean he escaped?"

"Worse," Lin admitted. "We let him go."

Mako froze. "You let him go? He killed nine senior officers!"

"And almost killed a tenth," Lin corrected. "And, he tried to lead an armed revolt, and had been killing people left and right for weeks in the Den. He deserved life behind bars in a maximum security prison, without question. But, then he told us who he was working for, and what he was doing for them. And once that was out in the open, we managed to strike a deal."

"What would you have gotten that would justify letting someone like that go, exactly?" Mako asked inquisitively.

"Easy," stated Lin. "He was the one who gave us intel to bring down the Black Alchemists."

Mako raised an eyebrow. "The black who?"

"You never heard of the Black Alchemists?" Lin said in surprise. So much for a dramatic reveal, she thought. "I figured you would have heard about at least one of their attacks."

"Attacks? So they were a terror group?"

"More like a cult," Lin corrected. "No one really knew where they came from. Some said they were a subsidiary of the Red Lotus. Some believed they were created a thousand years ago as a pact between spirits and humans. Others think they were just a bunch of wealthy kids with too much time on their hands. Whatever they are—or were—they caused mayhem wherever they went. For decades, they committed radical acts of violence throughout the world, most of which without any reason whatsoever. They always managed to stay under the radar, even from world leaders. If the Red Lotus acted like a cannon, the Black Alchemists were like parasites feeding off of their hosts slowly and quietly. Nobody knew what they were after, nobody knew where they would strike next, and nobody had a clue how to stop them."

"Except Jackdaw," Mako said bluntly.

"He sold them out once he realized that all of his work was going to be undone. It finally got through his head that he wasn't playing a game, and he confessed everything. It turns out, Domin was one of the 'Dragonblooded', as he put it. To the tomes of the Alchemists, the six 'Dragonblooded' are the most fearsome warriors in the world, and act as the leaders of the organization. Jackdaw and the other five were planning a massive, coordinated attack on Republic City, using his army of burnouts to lead the charge. He agreed to hand us over the names of the other five heads of the Alchemists, in exchange for a heavily reduced service time."

"And you gave it to him."

"He got three years and five hundred hours of community service," Lin said sadly. "The information he gave us was legitimate, and within the week, the Black Alchemists were completely disbanded, never to be heard from again. I tried to screw him out of the deal. I saw what he did to my men. But, a deal is a deal… especially when you hire a damn good lawyer to help you out. After he was released from prison, he was placed under house arrest, where he remains to this day, under heavy monitoring."

Mako stroked his chin. "If Kuzarov is still in the city, it's likely that he's the one leading Jackdaw's Den. And if those two are connected, then that means there's a chance that he's also the Hanzi Killer too."

"Hmm," Lin groaned. "It just doesn't seem right. Jackdaw has been docile for the past five years. The Alchemists are dead and gone."

"You said it yourself that Jackdaw was good with knives, right? And he would have a motivation for trying to kill you. Plus, we know he's doing something illegal because we know Jackdaw's Den is functional again. The evidence is right there in front of us. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because with Jackdaw, nothing is ever that straight forward," Lin said sternly. "We don't have any direct proof that links him with the recent killings, and he already have two strong leads that haven't been thoroughly checked out yet. Now is not the time to start another manhunt."

"But—"

"No buts. This is an issue we'll have to deal with separately. Off the record from the rest of the investigation." Lin thought for a long moment, and then said, "I want you to head back to the station and talk to the Deputy Chief about brining Jackdaw in for an investigation. If you really think he has something to hide, we'll get it out of him. But in the meantime, stay on your task. Search for the Killer. Find the Tinkerer. Jackdaw can wait."

"Yes, ma'am," Mako said with a salute. He faltered. Something did not sit right with him about Lin's story. He went to leave, when Lin called him.

"One last thing detective," she stated. "Don't tell anybody else about this. Don't mention the Black Alchemists. Don't mention the Den. Don't mention Jackdaw. Got it?"

"Don't worry, Chief," Mako said with certainty, "I won't tell a living soul."

* * *

"A cult!?" Sy yelled furiously. She grabbed on to the edges of the table, the force of her grip causing the wood to buckle. Mako rested his head in his palm. The other ten occupants in the coffee shop were staring at his girlfriend with blank expressions, unsure what to think of the screaming albino teenager. Yet, Sy barely reacted to the stares, instead shoving a finger directly into Mako's monotone face.

"Pardon my language," she continued, "but what the cocoa beans are you doing getting involved with a cult?"

"I'm not involved with a cult," explained Mako. "I'm investigating a former cultist. There's a—wait, how is 'cocoa beans' supposed to be bad language?"

"Duh! I'm not actually going to curse in public, Mako. There are _children_ around. I have sensibilities, you prick!"

"Just please stop shouting," Mako begged. "I'm not even supposed to be telling you this in the first place, so please calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down when you tell me something like that?" Sy asked in disbelief. "That's the worst thing you could possibly tell someone. 'Oh hey, Sy. I just want to let you know that a bunch of crazy guys in robes are going trying to capture me and cut me into ribbons on a sacrificial alter. No big deal.'"

"It's not like that at all. There isn't any giant conspiracy theory going on. There's a criminal who used to be a part of a long-dead cult, and now I have reason to believe that he could be involved with the Hanzi Killer. Besides, why is this freaking you out? It's no more worse than it was when I investigating before."

"What are you talking about? It's indefinitely worse," stated Sy. "Serial killers are just psychos who usually only attack a specific group of people due to some messed up mental health issue. Cults not only have a bunch more members and choose have a lot more variety when it comes to killing people, but when someone tries to interfere with them, they like to send messages, usually in the form of dead girlfriends!"

"And here I was thinking that you were concerned about _my_ safety."

Sy groaned, and threw her head back. "_Of course_, I care about your safety. But it's your job to go after the bad guys, so you constantly throw yourself into danger. I—on the other hand—am a delicate, little flower. I want to stay as far away from illegal activities as possible. If you get in too deep with the wrong people, then we're both screwed."

"I think you might be overreacting to this. _Nothing_ is going to happen to you _or_ me. The Alchemists have been dead for a decade. And we are only bringing in this 'Jackdaw' guy for an interrogation, with plenty of highly-trained officers keeping watch on him. Lin even said that he went docile, so there's nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be fine."

Sy rolled her eyes. "If you say so, detective." She uttered the last word with just the smallest bit of contempt buried inside. She then grabbed her remaining half-cup of coffee, and downed the entire mixture in one large gulp. She slammed the empty foam cup on the table, and wiped the remaining brown drops of deliciousness from her lips. Mako watched her inquisitively.

"Uh… why did you just do that?" he asked.

"I felt like it," she grunted, folding her arms over her chest and glancing off to the side.

"Isn't that still really hot?"

"So what if it is?"

"Doesn't that cause you pain?"

"Bitch, I _am_ the pain."

Mako scratched his chin. He did not have the greatest understanding of women to begin with, but with Sy, it seemed like that problem was amplified. Sy was—after all—like no one else, and that made getting to know her a troublesome affair at times. He did not understand why she seemed so on edge on something that in no way related to her. She still remained completely isolated from the rest of the case. There was absolutely nothing that could harm her, so it seemed illogical to him that she would be in such a terrible mood over his decisions.

But then, to screw things up even further, Sy stood up, walked around the edge of the table, and pulled Mako in for a tight kiss. Her warm lips interlocked with his for but a few moments, and he felt their tenderness as she breathed softly into him. She tasted distinctly like a blend of coffee and something unidentifiably sweet—a flavor that, like its owner, was unique in every way. She pulled away as suddenly as she started, and looked into Mako's eyes with an expression he could only describe as some sort of melancholy.

"Just watch yourself out there, moron," she said coldly, "and try not to get in over your head."

Sy sauntered out of the coffee shop, multiple pairs of eyes following her as she left. Mako looked down at his own, barely-drunken cup of coffee, and took a deep breath. He really did not understand women at all.


	19. Prime Suspects

**Note: We at GodSaveTheKings cannot believe it has been almost a year since _Legend of Korra _ended. This fandom has been an absolute joy to write for, and we would like to thank everyone who has come along this journey with us. As always, we encourage reviews to let us know what you like and what you want to see more of. Here is the net chapter of Crescendo, with another hopefully coming before the end of the year. Enjoy.**

* * *

Korra left the home of the Irro family lethargically. An immensely unsatisfying feeling forced its way into the back of her head, and as she ambled out of the small apartment complex, she was in serious doubt of her motivations for being there in the first place. The grieving parents had no information over the disappearance of their son. They did not know who had taken him away, or where they went. The meeting was completely pointless.

She scolded herself. She knew the meeting wasn't entirely pointless. She helped a scared family feel better about a terrible situation. At least that counted for something. Lin had given her this job, and it was her duty to do it to the best of her ability. It might not have been direct action, but she knew that providing emotional stability was equally important to the healing process. Several years rotting in the Southern Water Tribe taught her that lesson.

Yet, there was another part of her that craved more. Nothing would provide more support to a family than returning their son. In fact, nothing would satisfy her more than punching the Hanzi Killer in the teeth. She could not help it. Despite her best attempts at finding a course of total peace, there was still a fragment buried within her that found the utmost satisfaction from knocking someone cruel clean onto the floor. It was faint, existing as no more than a thin mist that occasionally compacted into a solid, tangible mass of violent need in her chest, but it was present. It must have been a left over from the vigorous training in her youth, when all she ever thought about was burning a target or smashing a foe with boulders. The more she thought of it, the more it creeped into the forefront of her mind. A sudden thought of breaking the Killer's filthy hands with the snap of her fingers drifted before her, followed by a subtle yearning bubbling in her stomach.

Korra sighed with contempt. No, she decided, that wasn't who she was. She could not afford to let rage or vengeance interfere with her work. Regardless of what happened to Lin, and regardless of what happened to the victims, she needed to stay calm and act professionally. There were others already searching for the Killer directly. She needed to complete her job, which was to make sure the families of the victims felt safe and secure.

She shook her head. What she really needed to do was think more positively. She was supposed to provide support, yet she was rather sure that while talking to the Irro family, she bore a scowl more than a smile. Quickly, she jumbled through as many positive thoughts in her head as she could think. Learning that she was the Avatar: good. Attending her friend's wedding: excellent. Asami wearing a cocktail dress on their first date: wonderful. Defeating Tenzin in a difficult game of Pai Sho: superb. Asami dancing wearing a cocktail dress: fantastic. Regaining access to the Avatar State: phenomenal. Asami taking _off_ the cocktail dress: positivity overload; so much, in fact, that Korra actually felt ashamed to be thinking of it in public, and stored the memory back into the recesses of her mind for a later time and place.

It was doubly unfortunate that Korra was thinking of such inappropriate things as she approached her next destination: a school building, the stature of which the Avatar was unaware. As it turned out, Korra knew painfully little about public education. Most of her friends never attended a public school, and those that did often painted an ugly picture of it. She knew that days were divided up based on subject, which included calligraphy, biology, and an abominable, dreadful thing called "mathematics". (It was not that she was incapable of math—multiplication and division were child's play—but when Asami had attempted to explain to her that the first derivative of the natural logarithm of an x-value was equal to the value of one divided by the x-value, she became completely turned-off by the subject in its entirety.) Aside from that, Korra claimed to know nearly nothing else. She did not know how long the periods of classes were, how many students were involved, what supplies they used, whether they were granted breaks, how social status worked or how it affected anything, or anything else of use.

It was perhaps with a twinge of guilt that Korra read the sign at the front of the complex as "_Avatar Aang Secondary School", _realizing what her legacy impacted and how little she knew about it. Then again, the name of the school was nonsensical, as Aang himself never received public education (with the exception of an incident in the Fire Nation that Tenzin preferred not to tell). Her next impression was that the school seemed far more innocent than she had been led to believe. In the front yard of the school were dozens of young teens and children sitting outside, eating food and talking pleasantly with one another. Their endless chatter greeted Korra's ears and blocked out all other noise in the area, as if consuming the other sounds itself. The children were blocked in with a chain-link fence, yet given plenty of room to roam about if they wished.

The woman from the Southern Water Tribe traced her path along the fence until she came to a large opening, with the banner of the school displayed proudly overhead. Korra moved slowly through the opening, waiting for adults to run up and stop her. Yet they never came. Korra shrugged it off; she supposed schools didn't need that much security. As she walked along the pathway towards the entrance to the actual building, she gazed left and right at the children surrounding her. Still, no eyes met hers. She wasn't sure if the children did not recognize her or simply did not care, but none of them broke free of their conversations to notice her. By the time she reached the doorway, she was shocked that she had not encountered any opposition. She checked left and right one last time, just in case someone needed to catch her attention.

Instead, she spotted something else. Off in the corner, away from the merry chatter of the youth, were three boys huddled around the fence. There was something odd about them, as they occasionally shook and kicked their legs out at something on the ground. Korra instinctively moved towards them. As she grew closer, the details became apparent. There was a fourth boy, lying still on the ground, and his matching grey suit dripping with blood. Korra recognized his other features: dark, unkempt hair, a small frame, and a large smile spread across his face.

"Stop smiling at us, freak," the largest boy grunted, kicking the small child in the gut. "This is what you get for being so weird."

Masaki groaned, and pushed himself off of the ground. He stumbled immediately, and slunk back against the fence. A long stream of blood fell from his damaged nose, but his smile never faded.

"Come on," he taunted, "I can keep doing this all day."

"You're asking for it, shithead," the boy said, winding his arm back for another strike. Without wasting a moment, Korra rushed forward.

"Hey! Let go of him!" she yelled as they boys turned around to face her. They were only up to her chest, yet they did not seem frightened in the slightest.

"Aw, look," the lead boy laughed, "Masaki needs a girl to fight his battles for him. How stupid can you get?"

"I don't know what you _think_ you're doing, but it needs to stop right now," Korra said sternly. The boy laughed off the remark, and his lackeys followed his lead.

"What are you going to do? Tell the teacher on me? _You're_ the creepy bitch stalking around the school grounds. I don't even know who you are!"

"Kid, you need to learn some manners," Korra threatened. "I'm warning you, walk away."

"Oh yeah? Make me, _bitch_."

Korra closed her eyes. "Okay… I warned you." Suddenly, her eyes shot open, bright white and pulsing with energy. All at once, the bravado and the intensity in the child's face faded, and he screamed and fled past her into the school building. His companions followed suit, darting after him in panic. Once they were gone, she took a deep breath, and soon, her eyes returned to their normal blue. Masaki stared at her, his eyes showing a pain masked by his unmoving grin. Despite all of the eyes in the world now resting on her back, Korra stared solely at the damaged boy, who sat up crookedly against the fence.

"Are you okay, Masaki?" she asked him, crouching down to eye-level.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "This isn't too bad. At least they mostly stayed away from my face."

"They do this to you often?"

"Probably once a week. Really, it's not that bad though."

"Well, hopefully they'll stay away from you for now on. If you ever need help, or if you need to talk to someone about it—"

"I think I'll be fine," Masaki cut her off. He paused for a long moment. "Were you _really_ going to hurt them?"

"Of course not," Korra said with a small grin. "That was just a show to scare them off. I don't like using my gifts to hurt people. If all goes well, I'll never have to."

Masaki snickered. "I know. That was what you told me, remember? I tried doing what you said; I tried to be friendly to them. I was really trying to be nice. I even let them take their aggression out on me."

"Masaki, I think I might not have been clear," Korra said slowly. "Just because you're trying to be nice doesn't mean that you should let other people attack you like that. You can always defend yourself if you need to. I just meant that you should try to make more friends. I don't think bullies are included in that."

"So… don't be nice to them?" Masaki asked quizzically, staring wide-eyed at the Avatar. She shook her head.

"No. Always be nice," Korra clarified, albeit poorly. "Just make sure that if they try to hurt you don't just stand there and take it. Stand up for yourself. They'll respect that… I think."

Masaki remained silent, reflecting on the concept. He opened his mouth to respond, when a loud shriek pierced the air.

"Get away from that student!" a high-pitched voice cried from behind. Korra rose to face the noise as a sharply-dressed woman stormed towards her, brandishing a ruler as a makeshift weapon. Her face was like that of a lion, fierce and determined, and her light brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She waved the ruler furiously at the woman before her. "Unhand that boy right now!"

Korra shot her hands into the air. "Whoa, take it easy. No need to be swinging anything at anybody."

"What are you doing trespassing on school property?" the woman questioned, shoving her ruler directly into Korra's chin. "And what the hell do you think you're doing with my student?"

"Trespassing? I just walked in through the front gate," Korra explained calmly. "No one told me that I couldn't come in. There wasn't any security, so I just assumed—"

"Dammit, I _knew_ those guards were slacking off," the woman cursed through her teeth. "That still doesn't explain who you are or what you're doing here."

"My name is Avatar Korra. I was sent here on official business from Chief Lin Beifong of the Republic City Police Department. I was passing through when I noticed Masaki was being attacked, so I helped him out. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"_Avatar_ Korra?" the woman asked with suspicion. "You sure don't look like the Avatar."

"There's a giant statue of me in the middle of the park if you want to check it out yourself," Korra said half-jokingly. The woman studied her face, eyeing every crucial detail, and then looked over her shoulder at the wounded student.

"Masaki, did this woman attack you?" the teacher asked.

"No, she's the Avatar, and she's my friend," Masaki said with certainty.

"Go see the healer. She'll patch you up," the teacher said with a sigh.

"Yes, Miss Satori," he responded weakly. With a great amount of effort, he hoisted himself off of the ground, smiled kindly at Korra, and then limped towards the school building. As Korra watched him go, something he said latched onto her thoughts.

"Miss Satori?" she asked. "You're Illu Satori?"

"Yes," said the teacher. "Why do you want to know?"

"You're actually the reason I'm here," Korra stated. "I want to ask you some questions about your sister's murder."

* * *

When Jackdaw was escorted into the police station, all eyes were drawn to him at once. All conversations and work came to a screeching halt, and Mako felt the air grow cold. Jackdaw, or Domin Kuzarov, or whatever he wished to be called, was unlike any man he had ever seen before. Most strikingly, he was a very tall, looming figure, not broad, but lean and stretched like a grasshopper stood upright on its hind legs. He did not walk, but rather lurked through the hallways of the station, as cool blue eyes scanned every person in the vicinity. His entire body was muscular, yet hidden along the thin frame. He wore a long brown trench coat, which he used to drape his torso effectively, and thick, worn boots that trotted across the floor. His jaw was angular and sharp; a thin coating of stubble partially masked his prominent, almost beautiful features, and his short, dark-brown hair stuck out at the top, with thick, oily strands protruding over his brow.

He was carefully led into the interrogation room by five officers, who held clubs at the ready. Fortunately, there was no incident, but even as he was locked inside of the room, Mako could still cut the tension in the air with a knife. The Jackdaw sat patiently in the other room, fiddling with the handcuffs on his slender wrists. Mako watched in silence. For twenty minutes, not a living soul went near the room. Someone was supposed to go in there and talk to him, but no one did, and Mako was beginning to get frustrated. They were not legally allowed to keep someone in interrogation for a prolonged period time without activity.

Then, about five minutes later, Mako found out why none of the other officers were going to talk to him. Limping into the police station at that time—arm wrapped in a sling, half in uniform, a stern look of determination on her face—was the Chief herself, who greeted him so bluntly that he was unsure how to respond to the woman who was bedridden just the day before.

"Is Jackdaw here?" she asked coldly.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Don't let anyone else into the room after me," she ordered, moving slowly towards her target. "I want to keep this personal."

"Chief, hold up for a second," Mako managed to stammer out. "What are you even doing here? You should be getting rest at the hospital."

"This is too important for rest," she stated. "Besides, they let me out. They said I was healthy enough to be released."

"You can barely stand! They never should have let you leave."

"Well, the doctor owed me a few favors," Lin shrugged. "I'm not going to fight him. I just want to ask a few questions."

"Then why don't you let talk to him?" Mako asked. "You'll save energy."

Lin considered it for a moment, and then shook her head. "I don't want to expose anyone else to that evil," she said solemnly. "He's pretty good at getting in your head. I'm used to it, so I'll be fine, but you are not, under any circumstances, to get further involved with this. What's the worst that can happen?"

"He can attack you while you can't defend yourself," he responded almost immediately. Lin simply brushed past him, and went on her way.

"He won't hurt me. He won't risk doing something that stupid in front of the entire station. Hsng back, detective," she ordered. Mako sighed half-heartedly, knowing that nothing he said would change the Chief's mind. He entered the small, dark room nearby to watch the interrogation from a safe distance. Without further delay, Lin walked into the room with eyes locked on the bug-like criminal. A sincere smile spread across his face, as if greeting a long lost friend.

"Hello, Chief," he said, his gravelly voice barely louder than a whisper. "It's been, what, three years since I've seen you last? You look pretty good for pushing sixty."

"Kuzarov," she responded emotionlessly. "Let's cut the formalities. I'm not in a very good mood today."

"Why would you be?" he asked. "I heard what happened to you. It's incredible that you managed to make such a fast recovery. You always were very difficult to kill."

"Thanks for the compliment," Lin sneered, taking a seat across the table from the madman. "Do you know why we've brought you here?"

"Well, I can take a few guesses," Jackdaw stated, leaning back in his chair. "It could be because of that nasty arm injury of yours. Maybe you think I'm the one who did it, this new 'Hanzi Killer' everyone is raving about. But I don't think that's the case at all. You know I don't build bombs, and I feel like if I made an attempt on your life, the cops you sent to round me up would have done more than ask politely to see me. And then there's the fact that you came to see me yourself, instead of sending in that brooding detective or any other of these half-wits, which to me, suggests one thing: this is a _personal_ matter. Something is bothering you, and that something is specifically pertaining to _me_."

Lin remained silent for a long moment. After a few seconds, she finally muttered, "What do you know about Jackdaw's Den?"

Domin instantly perked up. "Jackdaw's Den? That's an old, ancient name. I haven't heard it in a while. You extinguished that name a long time ago."

"Apparently not," Lin said bitterly. "I was just informed by one of my top officers that Jackdaw's Den has been up and running for a full year now. I doubt such an ancient name springs back into the public mind after a decade without someone forcing it back. Given how pretty much everyone involved with that nuthouse is rotting in a jail cell, the suspects are pretty narrow."

"Jackdaw's Den is up and running," Domin smiled to himself. "That's very fascinating news indeed. I wonder how that happened without me. Tell me, Beifong, what exactly is going on in this new Jackdaw's Den? I certainly haven't heard of anything about it in the news over the past year."

"That what I was hoping to get from you," Lin admitted. "We don't have any records showing an increase of crime in the region, at least nothing that is any different from the rest of Republic City. But I've received reports that someone powerful is keeping the area under tight security, blocking out rival gangs and keeping police as far away as possible. Everyone there is afraid of something."

"And you think that something is me?"

"It's the most logical choice I can think of," stated the Chief. "It's the same area where the old Den was held, t's located near your residence, and—most importantly—it has your damn name in the title. There aren't any people I can think of that can gain and hold power while hiding in the shadows."

Jackdaw chuckled. He leaned forward on the table, resting his chin on his hands. "Oh, Lin. I would think you have more important things to do than chase ghosts. I don't know anything about this new Jackdaw's Den, but if I had to guess, I'd say that someone probably picked up the name from an old gang member, and is using it to scare people to gather territory. That's an old Triad tactic, if I'm correct. Besides, why would I even want to start the Den up anyway? I only did it because the Black Alchemists told me to, and in case you haven't noticed, they aren't around any longer. Your accusations are baseless."

"Don't you think I noticed that?" Lin sneered. "I didn't drag you here to find a half-assed excuse to throw you in a prison, no matter how much I would actually like to. I want you to help us."

"Help you?" Jackdaw asked curiously. He thought furiously about the offer, and then smiled upon realization. "So, this _is _about that 'Hanzi Killer' after all."

"It's about both. The Killer has managed to avoid our detection despite all the attention he brings to himself. We have a few leads, but they've been dwindling on us and are hard to come by. I think that whoever this person is, they must have ties to a larger group to get around. Jackdaw's Den used to be known for the bodies it left lying in its wake, so I think it's reasonable to assume that its reputation could come back to haunt us. You know the criminal underworld inside and out. You could weave your way into the system, and see what you can find."

"And what would be in it for me?" Domin questioned. "Is it the satisfaction of knowing that I saved people's wretched lives?"

"How about I grant you a sooner release from house arrest?" Lin proposed with a shrug.

"Would you really feel comfortable with me back on the streets?"

"No, but I'd feel better knowing that you did a good deed to earn that privilege. I'll be straight with you, Kuzarov. I don't like you at all. I personally hope you spend the rest of your days rotting in agony, and if I could go back in time, I never would have pulled your sorry ass out of that burning house. But right now, I have a score to settle with the Hanzi Killer, and nailing that bastard is worth almost everything to me."

Jackdaw chuckled again, leaning back in his chair and swinging his feet up onto the table. "Well, normally I'd tell you to go fuck yourself," he said plainly, "but I like your honesty. There's a certain amount of… how to put this… _desperation_ to your voice that makes me feel good about it. I'll do whatever I can to help, Chief, as long as you uphold your end of the bargain."

"Glad to hear it," Ln said, rising slowly from her chair. Her body ached as she turned around to leave. "I'll send a unit to keep up on you. If you try to run, we will hunt you down, so don't push your luck. This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer."

Jackdaw smirked at her, and she slammed the door as she left the interrogation room. Mako quickly flanked her.

"What was that?" he asked, horribly angry and confused. "I thought you were going to make an arrest, but you're letting him work for you?"

"I know what I'm doing, Mako," Lin assured him. "He'll be closely monitored, like he always has been. Besides, we can't arrest him; he hasn't done anything wrong in the past ten years. We might as well gain some use out of him."

"You said yourself that we can't trust him," Mako claimed. "How do we know that this all isn't just some trick to go after you? What is _he's_ the Hanzi Killer?"

"We can trust him," Lin said more confidently. "Mako, in all of the years I've known Jackdaw, never once has he hid his true intentions from me. He's never tried to hide the fact that he's a monster; hell, he loves letting people know it. He's always told me that he wants me dead, and he's even given me some graphic descriptions of what he'd do to my corpse. Truthfully, the reason I know he isn't the Hanzi Killer is because if he did try to kill me with a bomb, he would have written his own name on it to let everyone know who did it."

"But—"

"Make way! Prisoner coming through!" came a sudden shout from behind. Mako hurried out of the way as five guards led a now-handcuffed Jackdaw out towards the exit. This time, Jackdaw grinned the whole time as he was dragged away. As he passed Mako by, their eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze as Mako found himself unable to look away from the bright blue orbs. The criminal's glare passed straight through him, sending a shiver up his spine.

And then, Jackdaw flashed his impeccable white teeth at the detective, and was hauled away by the police.


	20. Our Own Problems

**Note: Happy holidays from GodSaveTheKings. We'll see you next year. Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"So, we walked up to her," Asami explained through stilted laughter, "and I tell her something like, 'It's lovely to meet you. Mako told me so much about you.' And then she just glares at me, and says, 'Really? Because he hasn't mentioned you _at all_!' It was awful."

"That's definitely true love for you," Shang laughed, lounging in his seat. Varrick and Zhu Li snickered nearby, cuddled in each other's embrace. Asami rolled the wine in her glass, and smiled fondly.

"You have no idea," she said. "I was really nervous to meet her, because I kept hearing how wonderful she was, _and_ she was the Avatar, _and_ I wanted to make a good impression. But she hated me immediately! It was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

"Have you talked to her about it?" asked Zhu Li.

"I only brought it up once when we first started going out," Asami snickered. "You should have seen her face. I don't think I've ever seen her feel so bad about something. It was actually kind of adorable how sorry she was. She kept buying me all sorts of jewelry and stuff to make up for it, even though I repeatedly told her that I didn't hold it against her."

"It's a miracle you two ended up being friends at all," said Shang. "If someone was that rude to me, I would have never spoken to them again."

"It wasn't her fault," Asami swore. "She had a crush on the guy I was dating at the time, and she used to be a lot more judgmental. It was really complicated at the time. I'd rather not go into it…"

"Boo! Give us the details!" Shang clamored.

"I've been talking about my love life for the past half hour! You talk about your wives for once."

"What's there to talk about? One of them is smart, the other is attractive. One lives up north, the other out west. They both like me for reasons other than money—probably—and it's a joy to be with them. My family just aint that interesting compared to someone who is engaged to the Avatar."

"I don't have anything else to say," Asami groaned.

"Fine then. What about you two?" Shang asked, pointing at the married inventors. "What's your story? How did you meet?"

Zhu Li blushed, and adjusted her glasses. Varrick coughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, how did you two meet?" Asami asked, leaning forward. "You've never talked about it before."

"Well, it was a long time ago," Zhu Li stated. "I don't think you want to hear it."

"Oh, I think I do," Asami pressed further.

Zhu Li took another sip of wine. "I started working for Varrick Global Industries as an intern many years ago. It was back when the company was primarily in its infancy."

"Infancy schminfancy," Varrick interrupted. "We were selling goods all over the Fire Nation by that point."

"It's irrelevant," Zhu Li continued. "Anyway, I was interning under one of the engineering programs straight out of my university. About a month in, I noticed an error with some of the data for one of our new inventions, and I went to inform the manager, except he was out. I didn't know any better, so I decided to see the CEO himself about it. I walk into the room, and stumble across this poor guy being yelled at and blackmailed by his personal assistant."

"She was a woman named Brie," Varrick said with disgust. "Terrible manners, always short-sighted; she had no idea how to make a decent cappuccino! Also, she tried to rob me of thousands, and threatened to have me arrested for extortion. What a hack!"

"Gosh, that's rough," said Asami. "So what did you do? Did you call the cops on her? Fire her?"

"Well," Zhu Li said, blushing once more, "I realized that she was threatening my boss, and I didn't want to lose my job if anything happened to him, so I… well, I punched her in the face."

"Pow! Right in the schnozz!" Varrick said, swinging his fist through the air. "I've never seen someone with such powerful forearm strength before. It was remarkable."

"You knocked her out?" Asami asked with shock.

"Yes, I did," Zhu Li nodded shamefully. "I panicked, and didn't know what else to do."

"I hired her as my new assistant on the spot" said Varrick. "Luckily, 'Brie' and 'Zhu Li' sound similar, so it was easy to get used to someone different."

"And it's been wonderful ever since," Zhu Li sighed contently. She snuggled closer to her husband, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Shang applauded with delight.

"See, now _that's_ a fun story!" he exclaimed. "There's so much love in this room. Avatar love, punching love, polygamous love… why don't we get along with each other more often when we're all so happy?"

"Because we aren't usually drinking," Asami said with confidence.

"Touché. Seriously, I haven't had this much fun since my dad and I built that power generator when I was twelve."

"Your dad was an engineer too?" asked Asami.

"He was the one who got me into the manufacturing business in the first place," Shang explained. "He was pretty great growing up with. Childhood was the best. Once I got older though, we had a falling out. It was pretty tragic. We just couldn't agree with what we wanted to do with our lives. I wanted to expand my business into a larger corporation, while he wanted me to work with him to help with his passion of creating killer robots."

At once, the room went completely silent. Shang poured himself another glass of wine, fully oblivious of the three sets of confused gazes that were shown towards him. Only once he sipped his beverage did he notice that everyone stared at him like he was a madman.

"What? Did I spill something on my shirt?" he asked worriedly.

"Did… did you just your father wanted to build killer robots?" Asami stammered.

"What can I say? The man liked robots," Shang said with a shrug. "Once mom died, he spent all day in his workshop, tinkering with machines to make them act like people. Maybe he wanted company. He never got one working though. I didn't stick around long enough to see if he made any improvements, but the last time I saw him working on his machines, one of them blew up in his face. He ended up in a hospital for two months, spending the whole time muttering about how he would improve his inventions. Crazy guy."

"Is he still alive?' Varrick wondered aloud.

"I don't know. Probably. Maybe he joined a cult or something. Or maybe he's in a cave somewhere, working on his robots. Or maybe he's dead. I don't care. I'm not really a robot guy. I'm more of a rocket ship person. Love seeing things fly. That's why I'm so invested in your engine work. That's why I'm taking you out on this trip, after all."

"If your father is still alive, you should try to find him," Asami said with sincerity. "I wish I could spend more time with my father. I always wish we had a better relationship before he passed."

"Screw 'em," Shang said bitterly. "Man was a rambling psychotic. He's probably better off dead. You can't spend too much time worrying about those who've already gone to the other side."

"I guess you're right," Asami sighed. She rose from her seat, putting down her glass. The room spun slowly around her, and her stomach felt heavy. "I think I might call it a night. We have a long day ahead of us."

"Goodnight! Don't let the killer robots bite!" Varrick called as Asami slowly made her ways back to her quarters. The wine began to catch up with her, which was only worsened by the fact that she was on a constantly moving airship. By the time she made to back to her quarters, she felt like the weight of the world was pressing against her scalp. She lowered herself into bed and wrapped the covers tightly around her shoulders. She knew drinking was going to be a mistake; she was absolutely terrible with alcohol. But, she felt like she needed any relief possible from the stress. The airship was like a flying prison, and her room was her personal jail cell. She only hoped that Korra was having a much better time than she was.

* * *

"Thank you for waiting until the school day ended to talk," Illu said half-heartedly. "Although, I'm not exactly sure why you couldn't have just waited to see me during the weekend or any other time I would be available."

"Sorry," said Korra. "I didn't know where you lived, and I wanted to see you as soon as possible. I hope I didn't cause too much trouble."

"You damn near gave me a heart attack," Illu bemoaned. "Did they never teach you not to walk up to random children in Avatar school?"

"I actually never really knew other kids when I was being trained. I was kept in isolation in the Southern Water Tribe."

"Was that to make you more able to focus on your bending or your spiritual training?"

"Actually, it was because a secret terrorist organization tried to kidnap me when I was young," Korra explained nonchalantly. "But I think we're getting off topic."

The pair headed west as they walked the street of Republic City, the ever-present glow of the spirit portal serving as their only light source as the sun settled down beneath the horizon. Korra did not necessarily mind waiting for Illu to finish her after-school activities, as long as she was willing to speak. Yet, when she approached her with the questions about her sister, Illu quickly gave a grunt and turned her head.

"I know you're curious about my sister," she said discouragingly, "but we haven't spoken in years. I don't think you'll get anything you want to know."

"It's not just about getting information," Korra explained. "It's part of a healing process. Hopefully, you'll be able to find peace in her loss."

"Trust me, I'm not shaken up. When I used to speak with Ami, I only remember how much of a brat she was. She was the kind of person who everyone loved for being so perky and cute, even though to me, she always seemed like the most irritating person on the planet. She had so many friends that she thought she was above the rest of us 'normal folk'. The last words she ever said to me were, 'Don't wait for me in the Spirit World. Unlike you, I'm living forever.'"

"Was there any other reason she decided to break off contact? When exactly did this happen?"

"About five years ago. I have no idea why she did it other than what I just told you."

"Maybe she got involved with a bad crowd?" Korra suggested.

"She was a theater student. Unless you think she was murdered by a bunch of drama kids…"

"I see your point," Korra said with a nod. "So you don't know anyone who would actively try to hurt her?"

"None that I know about," Illu restated bitterly. "I didn't have control over everyone she met, you know."

"Of course," Korra said, pursing her lips. "What else can you tell me about her? Is there any place she liked to go often? Something she said that might have hurt someone? Would you describe her as particularly _envious _by any chance?"

"I don't know, Avatar," Illu said more harshly. "Really, I've barely known her these past few years. I don't think that anything I say will help you find the person who did this to her. And before you say otherwise, I don't need help getting over it. My son might, but I don't."

"Son?" Korra asked with interest. "You didn't mention you had a child."

"I thought you would have already known, given how you've been stalking me," Illu said distastefully. "Lee's been pretty shaken up ever since died. He used to visit her a lot when he was younger. They used to be really close." Illu paused, and grit her teeth. "He's been through so much. The last thing he needed was you threatening him in front of the entire school."

Many things ran through Korra's mind: being called a stalker, hearing of a child's grief, letting the victim deny help. Yet, as she processed the information, her concern grew to revelation, and her revelation grew into anger.

"Your kid…" she muttered, jutting a finger into Illu's face, much to the teacher's surprise. "That was your kid who was bullying Masaki! He nearly beat that poor child half to death!"

Illu swatted the finger away, only to be met with a forceful glare from bridge between two worlds. "I'm fully aware of my son's actions. He's under a lot of duress at the moment, and he shouldn't be held fully accountable. His bad behavior is just a cry for help, and I'm doing my best to prevent it."

"Clearly, you aren't," stated Korra. "This isn't just some isolated incident. According to Masaki, this has been going on for months, or even _years_. Lee didn't seem like he was used to being reprimanded for his actions, when it should have been drilled into his head by _you_ long ago. The kid needs punishment. I shouldn't be the one who has to explain this to you."

"Then why are you so insistent in getting involved?" Illu asked defensively. "You _barely_ know anything about Masaki's problems, you _don't_ know anything about Lee's problems, and you know _absolutely _nothing about my problems, so why bother focusing on this when there is a whole world's worth of _other_ problems to solve?"

"Because I have a problem with people use their powers to hurt others," Korra said passionately. "It doesn't matter if it's a dictator abusing a nation or one child picking on another. I just won't sit by and watch as the person who can do something does nothing at all."

"How noble of you, Korra," Illu said mockingly. "But maybe you should focus more on the dictators than on how I raise my own child."

"And maybe you should focus more on being a better mother," Korra said with equal distain.

Illu scowled, and turned away. "I think I've had enough of you insulting my family today. If you don't mind, I'm going to go home, and take care of my son… something _you_ will never get the happiness of knowing."

The teacher stormed away without a word, and Korra resented her as she left. She considered that she might have come across too harshly, but cast off her doubts after a few moments. She also considered following her, given how she essentially learned nothing, but realized that she did not want to give the accusation of being a stalker any basis in reality. Besides, her job for Lin was complete. Feeling more dejected than before, Korra began the long trek back to her home, as the darkness cast its great shadow upon the city.

At the very least, being in the older section of the city meant that there were less people around. Korra could actually hear herself think, which allowed her to mull over what she would tell the police chief about her lack of information. Lin hardly expected much of her, so she probably wouldn't be too disappointed, but Korra was seeking more than that. As someone whose entire purpose in life was to help people, it stung that she could not do any more with what she had been given. She had the sneaking suspicion that the moment she told Lin that she learned nothing of value, she would be told to go home and wait for Mako to find the Hanzi Killer. And, while she bore no discriminatory feelings towards her old boyfriend, it was hardly a comforting thought. Korra needed a way to force her way back into the action, and she needed it soon, before something even worse than a nail through the intestines happened. The worst scenario would be if Lin only let her join because another victim's bloody body was found lying in the streets.

Blood. Victim. Pain.

Korra stopped dead in her tracks, and turned sharply to her left. An overwhelming sense of nurturing overcame her, and before she knew what was happening, her legs carried her out of the inner city, through the darkened alleyways, and directly into Avatar Korra Park. She walked swiftly along the barely visible path, drawing closer to the heart of the peaceful reserve. After passing by a small bench and a hungry squirrel, Korra came face-to-face with her own stone reflection, mounted atop its great pedestal, a young boy sat squarely beneath it.

"Hey," Korra called out gently. Masaki's head turned sharply, his eyes wide with surprise. "I thought I might find you here. You have a minute to talk?"

Masaki nodded. Korra took a seat next to him, and rested her elbows on her knees. Masaki sat with his legs crossed, occasionally casting a wistful gaze up at the statue. A thick, white bandage covered his nose.

"How are you feeling?" Korra asked.

"Alright," he said plainly, smiling pleasantly. "The healer said that my face should be all fixed up in a few days."

"That's good to hear. Hopefully, they'll leave you alone."

"I'll make them. I won't let Lee push me around anymore," Masaki said with determination. "The next time he tries to start something, I'll assert myself, like you said. I don't care if Miss Satori tries to get in my way, either."

"You know about Illu's… I mean Miss Satori's problems?"

"She's no help at all. No matter what I say to her, she never tries to stop Lee from attacking me. But now, it doesn't matter what she thinks. I'll fight back so hard that Lee will never even look at me ever again."

Korra smiled. "I hope you do, but don't go actively seeking trouble. I had a chat with Miss Satori myself, and hopefully she'll teach Lee some manners. But if he continues to bother you, don't be afraid to fight back."

"Right," Masaki responded with a large grin. He looked back at the statue, and sat silently as Korra watched him. His grin consumed half of his face, and Korra leaned in closer.

"Um, Masaki," she said cautiously, "if you don't mind me asking… why do you always smile so much?"

Masaki thought for a long moment, wondering whether to be offended or not, before finally stating, "Birth defect. When I was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my head. The doctors told my mom that the lack of oxygen caused nerve damage in my face. Even when I'm angry or upset, my face always keeps smiling."

"Is that why they keep bullying you? Because you can't stop?"

"I can stop," Masaki clarified. "It just hurts a lot. Besides, I think it makes me look happier."

_And a bit creepier,_ Korra thought instantly. She buried the thought, and smiled right back at him. "That's a very optimistic way of looking at things."

"It was something my mom taught me," he said earnestly. "She taught me a lot of good things."

"You never really talked about your parents," Korra wondered aloud. "I mean, they can't be totally comfortable with letting you stay out this late."

"They're fine with it. I don't like talking about myself too much," Masaki said quickly. He hurriedly changed the subject. "Thanks for checking up on me, Korra. It's good to have a friend like you."

"It's good to have a friend like you, too," Korra said. Instinctively, she reached over and pulled the young boy into a hug. It was very brief, and he did not return the favor, but she could tell that he appreciated the gesture.

"But you did lie to me, though," Masaki added while in the embrace.

"What?"

"When we were talking last time, you said that your relationships were complicated. But you're wearing an engagement ring, and I heard you're marrying that business woman. That doesn't sound very complicated."

"Clearly, you are too young to understand marriage then," Korra joked, and gently pushed the child away. "Get back home, Masaki. I'm sure your mother is worried sick."

"Okay, I'll go," Masaki sighed contently. He walked back in the direction of the park bench, before turning back one last time, and with the same positivity, shouted, "Be careful out there, Avatar! You never know what psychopaths you could run into!"

Korra watched him fade into the darkness, significantly less-disturbed than when she first met the boy. She considered walking him home, but figured that it might be rather difficult to explain to a mother why a strange, muscular woman was walking alone with her son. Korra instead continued eastward towards the bay, where she longed for a decent meal and a hot bath. She exited the park and moved hastily through the last few city blocks. She bounded around one of the last street corners, still thinking of ways to convince Lin to let her stay on the case.

And then, she spotted two figures conversing in the shadows nearby, and darted back behind cover. A sense of dread washed over her as she poked her head out behind the buildings for another look. Illu Satori was hunched over, casting around nervous glances while a larger, bearded man spoke to her. Even from meters away, Korra could make out remnants of their conversation.

"Come on, Illu," said the man. "You can't leave us hanging like this. We need you."

"Tell your boss that I'm out," she said defiantly. "That's not who I am anymore."

"Stop lying to yourself, girl. We have to look out for each other, 'cause there aren't too many of us left."

"I have my own things to deal with. Very personal things. I wish I could help, but it isn't going to happen. I can't risk something like that, especially after what happened to Ami."

"Well, just think it over," insisted the bearded man. "The boss has a big plan going forward. I wouldn't want you to suffer the consequences for not being involved."

"I will," Illu groaned. "You've been a good friend, Yao. I'll see you around."

Korra slipped back into the shadows as the two parted ways. A hundred questions ran through her mind. Boss? Plan? Ami? Whatever was going on, one thing was readily apparent:

Illu Satori was hiding something.


	21. Bang

**Note:** **Happy one year _Crescendo _****anniversary! Thank you for all of the support we received in 2015, and here's hoping that 2016 will be just as wonderful. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, and enjoy the first new chapter of the year! **

* * *

Mako drove through the slums of Republic City as quickly as possible. He knew that a police presence was not exactly welcome, and he preferred not to add more danger to his current mission than was already readily available. Chen sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the downtrodden citizens roaming the streets. He was not entirely sure why Lin would bother sending him out into such a dangerous area of the city, but he did not feel worried. Both he and Mako had enough knowledge of the area to stay out of trouble. Then again, with Jackdaw waiting for them, he couldn't be too cautious.

"So why does Lin have such a bad history with this guy?" the pupil asked, scratching his jaw.

"She doesn't like to talk about it," said Mako. "Maybe you should ask yourself."

"Do you know?"

"Yes. I'm not telling it to you, though."

"Why not, sir?" Chen pouted. "I have a right to know if I'm going to go talk to him."

"You're worrying too much," Mako said calmly. "If Lin thought this job was dangerous, she wouldn't have sent you, right?"

Chen thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess you have a point there."

Mako grimaced. The truth was that Lin hadn't sent them on an assignment at all. It was his idea to hijack a squad car and carry on a personal mission. Chen was his backup, and his informant, given how he was the only one Mako knew would not blab to the others of their destination. Lin was gone for the day, with a mission of her own, one that required her full attention.

Chen had done it. It took many hours of hard work, but he finally tracked down the location of Valos Basteln, the man they called "The Tinkerer"; the very one who nearly killed the police chief with a nail bomb many days ago. Chen discovered that Basteln rented a small apartment in the upper west side, close to the outreaches. Upon hearing the address, Lin promptly wrote up a warrant of questionable quality, hobbled out of the station, jumped into a car, and sped away. Mako took Chen almost as quickly, fabricated some assignment about needing to pick up files (or something), and left in a car of their own.

Even as Mako pulled into the driveway of the small, wooden house, he felt uneasy. The structure had been completely rebuilt in the ten years since it was originally burned, and it stood proudly and white amongst the dark gray contrast of the rest of the slums. The air above it seemed cleaner as well, as if the dust and crude matter was scrubbed away with a thick brush. Chen noticed it too, for, once he stepped outside the vehicle, he took in a deep breath and looked around curiously.

"I've never seen this kind of wood before," said Chen, closely examining the foundation.

"That's because it only grows in remote parts of the Fire Nation," Mako explained. "It must have been pretty expense to import this much of it."

"How could he even get a hold of this stuff? Wasn't he under house arrest?"

"Well, the government was required to give him a house to arrest him in. But, they usually would have just made something cheap or rented a space for him. No one in their right mind would ever put this kind of effort into something for a criminal."

"Maybe they felt like being nice?" Chen suggested with a confused shrug.

"Yeah, maybe," Mako said blankly as he walked to the door. He knocked thrice, and called sternly, "Open up! Police! We want to have a word with you."

There was a loud crash from within the house, and a few moments later, the door slowly creaked open. Jackdaw poked his head out, a scowl on his face.

"You didn't say you were coming today," he sneered. "What do you want, pretty boy?"

"The Chief sent us," Mako said as forcefully as he could manage. "She wants to check on what information you've gathered."

Jackdaw looked Mako up and down, and then cast his glance towards Chen, who was waiting awkwardly by the vehicle. His tongue slithered out of his mouth, and washed over his pale lips. He smiled warmly.

"Well, if that's what Beifong wants…" He opened the door, revealing nothing but dark hallways behind him. Mako took a nervous step inside, trying to hide the tingling sensation running up his spine. The inside air was warm and heavy, and pressed down on the detective unnaturally. The floor creaked unceremoniously as he was led into a small living room, filled with clusters of empty bottles and discarded papers. A rugged sofa sat squarely in the corner, and after pressing his hand firmly against it to test its strength, Mako took an uncomfortable seat.

"Take a load off," Jackdaw said, almost as a taunt. The massive creature was only half-dressed, wearing dusty brown slacks and a tank top that clung to his moist, muscular form. Mako noticed a large tattoo poking out from beneath the shirt and dancing across his neck, although in the darkness he could not make out the specifics of its form. Chen casually took a seat next to him, causing the sofa to wobble momentarily before coming to a slanted rest. "Drink?"

"None. Thank you." Mako scanned the apartment, and noticed that the papers were made up in their entirety of old newsprint, with headlines ranging from the spirit vines overtaking the streets to celebrity engagement tales. "You seem like a big reader."

"Well, when you get locked up in your house and the only access to the outside world is the daily paper, you learn to adapt," Jackdaw chuckled from the other room. "You sure you don't want something to drink?"

"We'll pass," Mako repeated. Jackdaw reentered, this time with papers underneath his arms and a cigarette rolled firmly between his teeth. He tossed the papers into Chen's lap, startling the young man, and then brushed his fingers against the cigarette's edge, igniting the paper and sending a soft glow flickering onto his hard features.

"Those are the notes of everything I've found," said the criminal with the burning cigarette still in his mouth. "Every crook in this neighborhood that has the potential to be walking around as the new Jackdaw, or Hanzi Killer, or whoever it is you guys are searching for. I've come up with about thirty people who have the skills, personality, and resources needed to take my spot. Feel free to check back for more."

"This… this is a lot of information," Mako said, feeling the heftiness of the paper stack while Chen quietly recovered on the side. "How did you manage to gather all of this under house arrest?"

"Limited house arrest. The Chief gave me temporary parole until the Killer is caught. Besides, I have my sources."

"Would those sources happen to be the same people who bought you those cigarettes?"

Jackdaw smirked. "Nah. These were paid for by the same people who paid for this house."

"Fascinating," Mako said with irritation. Nothing. Not a single hint of any deception. He tried a different approach. "So, how did you manage to convince city officials to refurbish your house?"

"Charm," hissed Jackdaw. "I like to live under very specific conditions. They were more than happy to accommodate."

"It's an interesting place to live, I guess. Why don't you give us a tour?"

"I don't see why you'd be interested. There's not much to see."

"Uh, Mako, maybe we should leave now," Chen prodded his commanding officer, but was ignored.

"But I am interested," Mako pressed. "I haven't seen too many houses like this before. Just a quick look around wouldn't hurt anybody… neither would turning on some lights."

"Sorry, but I'm afraid you don't have permission to do that, officer," Jackdaw said, contempt buried in his voice.

"Technically, I do," stated Mako insistently. "The terms of your arrest claims that I can authorize a search of your property at any time, without future notice or warning."

"No, no, you mistake my words," Jackdaw said. He kneeled down to meet the detective at eye-level. "_I_ do not give you permission to wander through my house. You wanted information, I gave it to you. There's no reason to waste my time rummaging through my house for something that does not exist. After all, I don't think _Lin_ would ever condone such an action. She would be very disappointed to find out that my privacy was being disrupted during one of _her_ operations."

At that moment, Mako realized that Jackdaw knew. He knew Lin was unaware of what he was doing. His invitation inside wasn't a commendation. It was a warning.

Jackdaw smiled wickedly, as the cigarette burned itself out and the darkness returned. "You don't want to prowl around the dark corners of _my_ mind, pretty boy. There's things buried there that change a man's very spirit. Now, with all common courtesy… get out of my house."

Mako was stunned into silence. Jackdaw hovered mere inches away from his face, his smoky breath piercing into his nostrils. All at once, Chen yanked on Mako's arm, and began to drag the frozen cop back outside.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Kuzarov," he said with a nervous laugh. "Thank you for the files. See you soon!"

Jackdaw slammed the door behind them once they were back on the streets. Mako stared blankly at the white house, and a scream passed through his mind, its body unknown and irrelevant to him. Chen tugged at his arm.

"Hey Mako," said the student. "Did Lin really order us into that creep's house? Mako? Mako!"

"Huh?" Mako snapped out of his stupor. "Yeah, whatever. It's not important. Let's just… get back to the station."

"Um, okay," Chen agreed uncomfortably. "You want me to drive?"

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Then do it." The two entered their vehicle, and started up the engine. As they drove out of the slums, they could see gang members lining up on the sidewalk, shouting at them.

"Stupid cops! Stay out of our neighborhood!" one yelled passionately.

"If I see your faces again, I'm gonna cut 'em off!" shouted another.

Normally, Mako would ignore their shouts of hate, but for some reason, their words bounced around his head in an endless cycle. They consumed his thoughts, and his reality seemed to faze in and out before his eyes. Something was wrong. He felt wrong. It was as if every fiber, every muscle, and every cell in his body were pulsing and twitching all at different frequencies, and he found himself short of breath and gasping for oxygen.

It was that house, but it wasn't. It couldn't have been. Nothing strange had happened. He sat down, took papers and left, so why did he feel the pulsating sensation in his brain, and the snap of his bones and the constant thumping of his heart in his ear? There was something unusual going on with that man and his home. Even if Lin had faith in the murderer, he did not. He believed that he saw something in that house, something that should not have had a clear name or face, yet clearly did. Within the house, and within its inhabitant, Mako saw evil.

* * *

Lin knocked lightly on the door to the small rental space. When it creaked open slightly, and a balding head came into view, she stepped backwards, and kicked the door down with tremendous force. The object was blasted off of its hinges, and the large man was blown to the floor. Lin stood in the doorway, her arm still wrapped in a sling, her shadow eclipsing the egg-shaped bomber that led quivering on the floor.

"Valos Basteln," she growled, "you are under arrest."

"Lin!" Valos panicked, hurriedly scrambling to his stubby legs. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You got sloppy covering your tracks." Lin took a step forward. The apartment was cold and metallic as the man himself, with machine parts clustered together on tables and counters. She kept her eyes focused on the cowering Tinkerer however, and moved one step further. "I want to have a nice, long chat with you."

"Lin, really, you've got the wrong guy!" The Tinkerer reached behind and grabbed a screwdriver. He swung desperately, but his wrist was caught.

"Do you really think you can lie to me, Basteln?" She snatched him by the throat, and hoisted him off the ground. She may have been pushing sixty and heavily bruised, but she had strength to spare, and her rage was serving as one hell of an adrenaline boost. "Do you really think you can try to _kill_ me and get away with it?"

"I didn't… try to…" Basteln gagged, his feet kicking the air.

"Bullshit!" Lin threw him against his workbench, sending metallic equipment flying everywhere. He sagged limply off the table. "The Hanzi Killer hired you to make a bomb. I saw it; I _felt_ it."

"Please Lin, you're acting crazy," he wheezed. "You can't do this. You don't have the right. There's no evidence—agh!"

Lin delivered a swift boot to Basteln's ribs, and he rolled around in agony.

"That bomb had your signature. You probably hoped I'd be too dead to recognize it." The Chief slammed her foot into Basteln's gut, and he emitted a pained gasp. "Now… who's the Hanzi Killer?"

"You've got the wrong man," Basteln cried, his voice weak and shaky. Lin pressed her foot against his throat, and pushed hard.

"Wrong answer." She leaned in close. "I'll give you one more chance to tell the truth, and if you still don't cooperate, I'm going to snap your neck like a twig."

"You… you can't kill me," pleaded the Tinkerer. "You're a good cop. You have to arrest me. Please, arrest me."

"I'm not feeling very much like a good cop today," Lin sneered. "It probably has something to do with the shards of glass you lodged in my stomach. Answer the damn question: Who is the Hanzi Killer?"

Valos said nothing. His eyes darted back and forth, arms frozen in place by his side. Lin began to push further with her boot, and all at once, he let out a pain-ridden, tearful yell.

"I don't know!" he shouted, terrified. "I never saw his face!"

Lin immediately released her hold on the sobbing bomber. "Details. Spit it out."

"We… we only talked on the phone," Valos explained tearfully. "He contacted me… said he knew my record, what I had done… he said he would leak the records if I didn't do what he asked."

"You spoke to him?" Lin asked intently. "What did he sound like?"

"I don't… it's hard to say. He called three times, and every time it was a different voice. One time it was gruff, and then it sounded nice… the third time, he actually sounded like a kid. It doesn't make sense."

Unfortunately, it made sense for Lin. "Did the sources on the phone sound like they were forced?"

"Yes, why?"

"He's using his hostages as mouthpieces." Lin mentally cursed. Every time she seemed to be getting close, the truth was yanked further and further away from her. "There has to be something you know that leads to him. How did the Killer meet you? How did he know about your past?"

"I have no idea. He just called one day, and before I knew it was giving him weapons. I swear that I never meant to hurt anyone…"

"Stop your groveling," Lin snapped. "You're a pathetic, hopeless waste of a human being."

"I… I know," Valos sobbed. "I know."

Lin sighed, and then angrily threw a random piece of scrap to the floor. More endless chases. More dead ends. It seemed like she had been going in circles for ages. And there was nothing at all to help.

"Please," Basteln choked, "can you take me to prison now? I'm not safe here anymore. If he knows that I've been talking to you, then I'm as good as dead."

And then, Lin had a twistedly brilliant idea.

"No. You're staying right here."

"What?" Valos yelled in surprise. "B-but, need to go. He said that if I talked, he would do horrible things to me. I need to be locked up where that lunatic can't get to me."

"Oh no," Lin stated. "You are going to stay right here in this apartment."

"But that means that—"

At once, Valos understood, and his eyes went wide with fear.

"You're going to use me as _bait_? Are you insane?" Lin smirked, and hoisted the Tinkerer up by his collar.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But if the Hanzi Killer wants your blood spilled, who am I to try to stop him? After all, you did try to kill me. Makes sense that I'd return the favor."

Basteln stammered. "It w-will never work! He'll know something is fishy if you don't bring me to jail. He would never draw attention like that when it's such an obvious trap."

"True," Lin shrugged, throwing Basteln back to the floor. "Then again, I don't really have any better ideas on what to do with you at the moment, and I'm feeling a little desperate enough to try this."

Lin turned towards the exit. "I'll send a squad over and have them position themselves around the perimeter. If anyone so much as looks at this building funny, they'll be on the bad side of a dozen highly trained officers."

"Oh man, oh man," Valos muttered nervously, surrounded by piles of metallic waste. Lin opened the door and stepped outside. "Stupid Valos. Never should have planted those bombs for him. Now look what's happening."

Lin froze in her tracks. Her eye twitched, and she stormed back towards the Tinkerer, a fury blazing within her.

"Bombs?" she growled, snatching Basteln's throat once more. "You planted more of those things around the city?"

"You… you didn't already find them?" he panicked.

"How many more are there?"

"Just… just one," Valos said hurriedly. "I only installed it yesterday. I had to wait until the area was unoccupied to get in."

Lin spoke fiercely. "Where the hell is it?"

* * *

"Are you certain you can hold all of that?" Opal asked with an intrigued grin. Bolin strained under the weight of the groceries, which were stacked up to his neck and spilling their contents over the brim of the containers used to hold them.

"Of course," Bolin said gleefully. "It's just food. Also, how many steps left are there?"

"Twelve," Opal giggled. She had previously offered to help her husband carry the enormous amount of sustenance, but he had bravely declined, as it was the job of a gentleman to not put off excess work on the lady. She did not bother to argue; those packages looked very heavy. Even with Bolin's immense strength, it appeared like a great struggle as he heaved the food up the stairs and along the long corridor to reach their apartment. She gave credit to him though. He never complained about the struggle even as he hoisted the containers onto their kitchen counter, and breathed a heavy sigh.

"Okay, so this food supply should last for the rest of the month," he said observantly.

"I somehow doubt that," sad Opal. "I'd give us two weeks."

"Come on, I don't eat that much." Bolin pouted. Opal cooed, and lovingly took his hands in hers.

"Baby, you do," she said politely. "That's a lot of muscle mass you have to keep up. Besides, I'm already starting to get cravings."

"Yeah, that's a pretty good point." A sharp pain jolted through his arm, and Bolin yelped.

"Something wrong?"

"Cramp," Bolin groaned. "I probably should have stretched before lifting weights."

"I told you not to carry that all by yourself," Opal stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's not like you can do any heavy lifting," Bolin countered. Opal rolled her eyes.

"Take a warm bath," she instructed leniently. "I'll unpack everything."

"But—"

"No buts. You've been enough of a gentleman already."

Bolin threw up his hands in defeat, and gave his spouse a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. Opal began reaching through the packages, and looked around the place she called home. The colors were warm, the air was rich, the furniture soft and comfortable. It seemed like the perfect place to raise a family. There was a good school nearby, and there was a plethora of activities and opportunities just outside her doorstep. She had made it out good, after everything she had been through. She considered herself very fortunate indeed.

Opal was halfway washing produce when the phone began to ring. She quickly wiped her hands dry on her pants, and picked up. The sound of a feminine, hysterical cry blasted from the other end.

"Please, pick up the damn phone already!"

"Uh, hello?" Opal asked curiously.

"Opal? Thank spirits I finally got through. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

"Asami? Is that you? What's going on?"

"There's no time to explain," Asami said, her words slurred and fluid. "Is Bolin with you? Are you two okay?"

"Everything is fine, Asami," Opal said, fear building in her gut. "Are you feeling okay? You sound really upset."

Asami moaned. "Forget about me. Look, you have to take Bolin and get somewhere safe. Lock yourselves in your apartment, and let no one inside. Don't trust _anyone_. Do you get that?"

"Slow down," Opal begged. "I can barely understand you. You're freaking me out."

There was a knock at the front door.

"Wait, hold on for a second. Someone's at the door."

Opal took a step forward, and then a bloody scream ripped across the phone line and drilled into her head. "Do _not_ open that door! Whatever you do, do not open that door!"

The airbender stood frozen in place, overwhelmed by horror. The knock repeated itself, louder and more ferocious. Opal lowered the phone, and slowly, cautiously, approached the door to her apartment. She moved lightly on the ground, keeping her footsteps silent; being an airbender had its perks. The knock struck once more. Opal pressed one nervous hand to the door, and looked through the peephole.

Once she saw the figure's face, an instant sensation of relief washed over her.

"Asami, don't worry," she said calmly. "I'm pretty sure that this person doesn't have any intention of hurting us."

Asami protested loudly, fiercely, but Opal removed the phone from her ear, and unlocked her door. She opened it widely, welcoming the warm face of her visitor.

And then, there was a loud _bang_, the apartment was shaken by a violent blast, and Opal slammed into the adjacent wall, the force of the blast knocking her off her feet. Her head cracked against the bright red wood, and she fell limp against the carpeted floor. Before the pain even had time to register, a knife plunged into her stomach, and she was out cold.

The intruder checked the other rooms, and—satisfied with the work—left the apartment, leaving behind a bleeding airbender in the entranceway, a charred earthbender in the bathroom, and a helpless inventor screaming over the phone.


	22. Acts of Violence

**Note: Sorry for the long wait between chapters everyone, especially after what happened last time. We've been dealing with a bit of writer's block as of late, but don't worry, the story is still going on as planned, and everything has been sorted out. Hopefully, it won't take an entire month for us to upload again. Until we inevitably get delayed again, read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

"Korra, I'm scared."

The Avatar was hurt. She felt drained emotionally and physically. Just a few days ago, she felt like everything was finally going right. She thought she was making a difference, but now, sitting in a claustrophobic hospital room with the unmoving body of one of her best friends resting before her, she could see how horribly wrong she truly was.

Bolin: badly burned and too weak to talk. Opal: comatose.

"Everything's going to be fine," said Korra. Admittedly, she was trying to convince herself more than her fiancé. "They're alive. That's what matters."

"No, not it's not," Asami said weakly. Her voice had been worn out from constant screaming, and it sounded like she hadn't gotten a decent night's rest in a long time. Korra could only imagine how much stress the Future Industries CEO had been under before; now it was like someone had dropped more weight upon her shoulders.

"Bolin and Opal are receiving the best care in the city," Korra said calmly. "And Lin's watching over them. There's nothing else that can hurt them."

"That's what you said last time," Asami snapped. "You said not to worry when Lin got hurt. You said you had things under control. There is someone trying to _hurt_ you out there, Korra. How can you just shrug it off?"

"I'm not shrugging it off. I'm doing everything I can."

"That's what is scaring me the most! Something like this should never have happened, but somehow, our friends are being hurt one-by-one. Opal is one of the most talented airbenders in the world. Bolin was a soldier. Lin is the best earthbender on the planet, and you're the _Avatar_. Yet it happened. Something is very wrong about all of this… I can feel it in my gut."

"Wait a second. You're not really thinking _that_ are you?" Korra asked in disbelief, reading the non-bender's mind.

"I'm saying it's possible," Asami explained. "The last thing Opal said over the phone before the attack was that the attacker looked like they wouldn't harm her. What if she saw someone she knew, someone she already trusted?"

"That could be—I don't know," Korra groaned. "Hey… why were you calling Opal right before the attack?"

"Oh, uh…" Asami stammered momentarily. "I was asking her for wedding advice. I guess I just got unlucky with the timing."

Kora processed the information silently. There were times when Asami was a master at hiding her true intentions. Though the Sato heir never fell back on deception all that often, she could pull enough emotion and passion out into her words that when she did, Korra would believe every sentence that flowed out of those beautiful red lips. But over the phone, in the hospital, with Opal's lifeless flesh strung up to countless machines right next to her, Korra heard nothing but a blatant falsehood. Maybe it was the overwhelming stress, but Asami's words sounded half-hearted and stale. Why would she feel the need to lie about something like that? Why was she calling Opal the exact moment of the attack?

Asami couldn't possibly be connected with this. Could she?

No, Korra decided, that was an absurd thought. Asami was Asami. She was wrong for even thinking of her girlfriend like that.

"Well, it's lucky you reached her when you did," Korra said faintly. "You saved her life. You saved both of their lives."

Asami said nothing.

"I'll keep an eye on their recovery," Korra added. "And, I'll get the bastard who did this. That's a promise. In the meantime, I want—"

"You want me to stay out of the city," Asami said knowingly. "You want to keep me safe."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"Have you considered that maybe I can help you? That maybe I have resources and skills that will help move the case forward?"

"I'm not risking your life for that," Korra stated boldly.

"I can take care of myself."

"So can Lin. So can Bolin and Opal. You said it yourself: something is very wrong about all of this. You are not coming back until this is sorted out."

Asami groaned. She hated it when her own words were used against her. "Fine. Just watch your back, Korra. I don't want to lose you, too."

Korra put down the receiver, and promptly slammed her head against the hard hospital mattress. Opal didn't react, which only made Korra feel worse. The doctor never gave a time frame of how long she would be out. In fact, he told her that she might never wake up again, though it was highly unlikely. What drove the final nail in the coffin however was the explanation as to _why_ she was comatose in the first place. Korra and Mako assumed it was due to head trauma, and while they were partially correct, the doctor mentioned something else that startlingly caught their attention.

The word, "miscarriage," was what caused Mako to collapse against the wall and nearly break down. Opal was six weeks pregnant; she and Bolin were planning on telling him the good news the very next day. The doctor informed them in a very calm manner that the baby was lost when Opal was stabbed in her apartment. That didn't make it hurt less. It didn't help them heal. It only pressed further against Korra's mind that she couldn't do anything to stop what was happening.

Abruptly, Mako entered the room, his forehead covered in sweat. "Is she up yet?"

Korra solemnly shook her head. "How's Bolin feeling? Does he know about—"

"No," Mako said quickly. "He needs to focus on getting rest. I can't imagine hearing that would be good for him."

"You're probably right. Also, I just got off the phone with Asami. She's holding up as well as she could be, I guess."

"Is she coming back?"

"Hopefully not. I told her to stay with Varrick and Zhu Li. Maybe they'll be able to ease her nerves."

Mako nodded. His eyes wandered to Opal, battered and bruised. "Do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"I have an idea. Or, I guess it's more like a hunch."

"Same."

Korra knew what the firebender was thinking. She was thinking the same. They exchanged no words of sorrow or empathy. Those words would not fix anything. Those wouldn't undo the damage. The Hanzi Killer had been active for far too long. It was time to end this. For good.

Korra got up from her seat, and pressed her hand firmly on Mako's shoulder. Their eyes did not meet, but she was certain that she would only see fury within them.

"Good luck," she said coldly.

"Stay safe," he said in turn. "Make that son of a bitch pay."

Korra left the hospital at midday, her focus squarely set on placing one foot in front of another as she walked towards her destination. She could not afford to let her mind stray, because every moment that it did, her mind was flooded with sights and sounds of blood and misery. The Killer's blood, Opal's blood, Bolin's blood, her blood; the details were lost in the flashes of brutality. The idea of punching something returned with a passion, raw and savage in its essence. "Make them pay", Mako had said; that was a very ambiguous command. It suddenly crossed her mind that Mako had killed someone before. Granted, it was an accident, but the act was all the same. He was, technically, a murderer. And now, though he had not stated it precisely, she could tell from his hollow voice and dead face that he wanted her to take another life as well.

Why not?

The voice bounced around in her head. Why not? It would be easy. With her powers, there were infinite ways to murder another person. Burn them alive and suffocate them with smoke. Smash their head in with boulders the size of cars. Freeze their blood solid and shatter them like glass. Increase the air pressure around them and crush them like a bug. Stab their heart. Break their neck. Chop them, drown them, claw them, and rip them apart limb by limb.

It would be _easy_.

What else was she supposed to do? Really? Throw them in prison? If they could get past security so well, what was the chance that they would immediately escape? Who else needed to get hurt due to her inaction? Tenzin and Pema's kids? Kai? Mako's stupid, annoying girlfriend? Or worse, what if he tried to go back and finish the job on Bolin and Opal, or even Lin? It was madness, truly. Inescapable, insufferable _madness_. All that power only to never be able to use it. It wasn't fair; hell, it was never fair. This was as good of an excuse as any to stretch her legs and test her full capabilities. After all, what could be a better test subject than the person who had caused her and her friends so much misery? It would be so, so _easy_. She could picture it clearly now, in her head, walking up to the pathetic man who committed such heinous crimes, wrapping her hands around his throat, and then…

Korra stopped dead in her tracks. She took a deep breath. The Avatar Aang Secondary School was directly to her left. She buried those hideous thoughts once more. She had something more important to attend to.

She passed by through the gate with ease. Despite her previous intrusion, the school hadn't bothered getting security set up, probably because they could barely afford it. Lunch had not yet begun, leaving no witnesses as Korra marched straight into the building. The halls were equally barren, with its only occupant a small woman sitting behind a wooden desk on the opposite wall. She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes went wide and she froze. A typical fan reaction.

"Illu Satori," Korra demanded. "I need to have a word with her."

"Yes, of course, Avatar Korra," the receptionist said, clumsily scooting trinkets around on her desk. "Down the hall to your right and take the second left. She'll be on the first door on the right. I think she's in the middle of a class right now."

"Don't worry," Korra replied, starting to walk away. "Kids love surprise guests."

The rest of the school was as degraded as its exterior. Korra followed the instructions tightly, although she could not shake the feeling that she was heading in the wrong direction since everything looked exactly the same. Occasionally, the sounds of a lecture leaked into the hallway from some decrepit classroom. Students giggled when they were supposed to be learning proper grammar, and shared secrets when they should have studied. They didn't know of the trouble that dwelled in the very city that surrounded them. They were lucky, fortunate souls.

Yet, right as Korra approached the suspected classroom, a bell rang over the speakers, and the innocent souls burst into the halls in a mad frenzy, not unlike tiger piranhas swarming towards a fresh meal. The Avatar backpedaled as the door nearly smacked her in the face, and the children pushed and shoved past her. She saw Illu Satori standing at the front of the class, trying to bestow some final pieces of wisdom on her students before they parted, and failing miserably at it. Her eyes wandered over, and when she saw Korra standing outside, a shocked and bitter expression fell over her face.

Korra stepped inside of the room. "Illu, we need to—"

"What do you think you're doing here?" Illu snapped. "I thought I told you to back off."

"You did. But I—"

"I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to actually come into my classroom," she bemoaned. "What else were you going to do? Were you planning on interrogating me in front of my own students?"

"I just want to know a few things, and then I'll be on my way," Korra explained. "No one is looking for any trouble."

"Then you should have stayed away," Illu said, in what may or may not have been a threat.

"Look, my friends were attacked yesterday," Korra said. The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "You're the best lead I have to finding who did this to them. If there is _anything_ you can tell me…"

"I can't help you," Illu stated. "I'm sorry, but I don't have anything of use to you. I just want to get on with my life."

Korra focuses her gaze. "Then who was that you were talking to the other day?"

Illu froze. Korra studied her face. There was fear. She was certain of that. But soon, that was washed away by a wave of anger, and Illu stepped forward and shoved the Avatar back.

"You _followed_ me home?" she yelled furiously.

"I didn't follow you," Korra said defensively, but the damage was already done.

"But you _spied_ on me!" Illu accused. "You actually spied on me! I always knew there was something wrong with you."

"I was just—"

"Get out," Illu said, pointing one finger at the door. "Get out of my classroom right now, or I'll call security and throw you out."

Korra didn't know what to do. She screwed up. She probably should have thought of some way to confront her more cleverly than that, but she had been so caught up in her own mess of emotions that she could not think straight. Not wanting to start a fight in the middle of a school building, Korra carefully left the room, as Illu slammed the door behind her. She traced her path back outside, thinking about what to do next. If Satori did not want to talk, then maybe her friend did. She had gotten close enough to feel his aura; if she got into the right state of mind, she would be able to trace his movements throughout Republic City. Was that vigilantism? Technically. At this point, she was just about ready to do anything to stop the Hanzi Killer.

However, there was something more important stirring just outside the front door. A massive group of kids were gathered together, screaming and jeering all at once. It didn't take long for Korra to see what the commotion was about. The children had formed a ring around four students: Lee Satori and his friends on one side, and a very small-looking Masaki Sugiyama on the other.

"You want to say that one more time, freak?" Lee sneered. Masaki's face was unusually sullen.

"I said… leave me alone," Masaki declared weakly.

"Why should we?" Lee asked defiantly.

"I tried being nice to you," said Masaki, growing more confident. "I didn't report you to the teachers or try to fight back. I tried being your friend, and all you ever did was try to hurt me. I'm sick of it."

Masaki did not see Korra watching him from afar. He kept his eyes firmly locked on the child opposing him. If he did look up, he would have certainly seen a look of pride coming from his hero.

"Are you trying to act tough?" Lee mocked. "Is that the best you can do? Come on, freak, what's with the serious face? Calm down and smile a little."

Masaki gritted his teeth. "Why don't you make me?"

Lee's cockiness faded. Nobody had ever challenged him like that, especially not that pathetic whelp with the constant grin. He would have to teach this loser a lesson, and a very painful one at that. Lee clenched his hand into a fist, and charged forward. Masaki was motionless as he approached, his dark saggy hair covering his eyes and his hands tucked into his pants pockets. He would have no idea what hit him.

And then, right before he had the chance to swing, a boot connected directly to Lee's face, and his jaw snapped in two. Six teeth flew out of his mouth and shattered on the floor. Almost immediately, another kick struck his kneecap, breaking the bones and bending the joint sideways. Lee collapsed instantly, his screams muddled through the blood flowing in his mouth. The children's' screams were silenced, and Lee's two friends looked on shock.

Masaki smiled, and Korra's pride suddenly turned to horror.

The smiling boy dashed forward, catching the others by surprise. His palm shot out and crashed into one of their throats, before another landed in the same boy's stomach. The remaining one tried to throw a punch, but Masaki caught his wrist, and drove his knee into the child's elbow, breaking the joint firmly. He threw the child to the ground, and stomped repeatedly on his leg; the fragments of bone broke through the skin and oozed with blood. Masaki dodged another strike from behind, and delivered a blow to the nose, crunching the cartilage as the boy dropped to the floor.

The three boys screamed in agony as the other children watched the bloodshed in silence. Lee began to crawl away, but Masaki blocked his path. Smiling down on the person who had bullied him non-stop for so long, Masaki pulled his foot back, and kicked Lee in the face.

"Freak."

He kicked again.

"Loser."

He kicked once more, and then another time in the ribs.

"Waste of space."

He kicked harder and faster. Lee coughed up blood with every blow, yet his smile never dissipated.

"What's wrong? Are you going to cry?" Masaki teased, placing his foot on Lee's face. His black shoes were stained bright red. "Do you think that will make anything better? Do you think that will bring back your aunt? Because it _won't_. She's _dead_, and she deserved everything she got coming to her. And so do you."

Lee murmured something unintelligible. It could have been an apology, or a plea for mercy, but Masaki did not care. He simply raised his foot, and drove it sharply down towards Lee's head.

"That's enough!"

Suddenly, the floor beneath them split, and the earth Masaki stood on slid backwards, driving the two apart. Masaki's foot connected with the dirt awkwardly, causing him to stumble and fall over onto his knees. Korra broke through the crowd of children, and reached toward an emergency pouch of water she kept attached to her hip. She quickly knelt over Lee, and began to treat his wounds.

"This fight is over," she stated forcefully. "Break it up."

The children dispersed, talking amongst each other as they fled. Masaki groaned as he rose to his feet. When he saw Korra, he laughed.

"Hey, Korra, did you see that?" he gloated. "I did it! I managed to fight back."

Korra grimaced. "What were you thinking?" she asked coldly. "How can you feel good about this?"

Masaki's smile faded. "What do you mean? I did exactly what you said to do: I stood up for myself."

"I didn't mean for you to do _this_," Korra cried. "You could have killed these kids."

"And?"

Korra stopped working, and looked up at Masaki. He was staring straight through her, as if his mind was in another place and time.

"I did what I had to do," Masaki explained. "I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen. He wanted to hurt me, so I hurt him back. Isn't that what you do to people who try to hurt you? Haven't you won every fight you've been in by hitting the other person harder than they hit you? Isn't that what the Avatar does?"

"Not like this," Korra sighed. "Never like this."

"Says the woman who destroyed half of Republic City."

That was it. She approached Masaki, and grabbed his wrist firmly. "Now listen closely: Whatever you think I taught you, you obviously got very wrong. You are never to raise your hand against anyone ever again. Is that clear, Masaki?"

Masaki shook his hand free of her grasp. He looked at Lee, writhing on the ground, for a long moment. For a second, Korra thought he might go back and try to finish the job. Instead, he tucked his hands back into his pockets, and hid his eyes underneath his shaggy hair. "Yeah. I understand." He grinned. "Hypocrite."

Masaki Sugiyama turned and walked back into the school building. As he walked upon the stairs, Illu stormed into the open, and scanned the horizon until she saw her son struggling along the ground. She let out a panicked scream, and raced towards him. Korra hurried away from the distressed teacher and left the yard as fast as she could. Her presence had caused enough damage already to the Satori family. She didn't want to cause any more.

* * *

Sy sat quietly in the squad car as Mako drove through the city. She did not know what she was supposed to say to him. She had been fortunate enough in her lifetime that she never had to face a family tragedy. She couldn't say that she was the greatest of friends with either Bolin or Opal, but they had never treated her wrong, which was more than she could say about a lot of people she knew.

Mako's eyes were focused squarely on the road, and ever since he had picked her up from the coffee shop, he had not said a single word. Maybe she should apologize to him? But for what? She didn't do anything wrong, and she doubted that he wanted to hear anything about it.

Small talk. That was what she would do. She was quite good at that.

"So… I applied for a job yesterday," she said casually. "I figure since I'm old enough, I might as well start working. It's a shoe store in the upper district. It's not too bad, although you do see a lot of… feet..."

The empathetic teen sighed. Mako barely appeared to be listening to her. She rested her cheek against her palm, and gazed out the side window. It seemed that less people were walking the streets as of late. With all of the recent attacks, she could understand why people were less inclined to be out in the open. She decided to change topics.

"How did you're meeting with that Jackdaw guy go? Was he as scary as you thought he would be? Did you get any information about—"

"Sy, shut up," Mako said bluntly. Sy stopped immediately. Mako had never talked back to her like that before.

"I'm sorry," she said with a small voice. "I didn't mean to—"

"Of course you didn't," Mako grunted. "You just say whatever's on your mind all the time without ever thinking about what it means. Why should I expect any different today?"

Sy opened her mouth to protest, but knew that there was nothing she could say that would make the situation better. She simply needed to let Mako grieve, and eventually, his anger would pass. She slumped back into her seat, and let her mind wander. She used to love the colors of Republic City. The ever-present green glow emitting from the spirit portal made everything seem so much more beautiful than it actually was. But now, they just sickened her. The glow bouncing off of the buildings that surrounded her made her feel sick to her stomach.

Actually, now that she thought about, those buildings looked very unfamiliar. They were a completely different style to the ones close to her home. Wait a second. Now that she thought about, Mako didn't even know where she lived.

"Uh, Mako, where are you taking me?" she asked, slightly concerned. Mako's eyes remained fixated on the road.

"I'm taking you back to my apartment," he answered.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sy said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I have to get home. My parents are going to kill me."

Mako's fist tightened around the wheel. That was the wrong choice of words.

"You'll be safer if you stay with me until we get this all sorted out," he stated. "This is for your own good."

"Mako, you can't just kidnap me!" Sy complained. "I need to go home. We have a great security system. We'll be safe."

"And what if you're not safe?" Mako snapped. "What if you take one step inside of your house and you get blown to pieces before you even know what's happening? I'm not taking that chance! I'm not going to risk losing you, too!"

"Dude, be reasonable!" Sy threw her hands into the air. "Being with you won't make me any safer. Hell, you're probably, like, the _biggest_ _possible target_. At least let me go back and talk to my mom and dad about this."

Mako finally turned his gaze towards his girlfriend, and she could see that his eyes were wet and glossy. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I just can't. Not now."

Suddenly, the radio came to life, and thick buzzing filled the car. The Chief's voice came over the receiver, fuzzy and broken.

"Squad car two six seven, do you read me, over?" she called out. Mako grabbed the microphone, and brought it to his lips.

"I read you loud and clear, Chief," he said hollowly. "What's the situation?"

"We have a one-eight-seven in the upper west side," she ordered. "I'm already there. Mako… you need to see this."

Mako slammed his foot on the brake, and turned the car around, causing Sy to clutch her seat and scream.

"What's going on? Where are we going?" she yelled.

"We need to make an emergency stop," Mako explained. "Lin said it was a one-eight-seven."

"And? I don't speak cop."

Mako summed it up in one word: "Murder."

The duo raced across town. Despite Mako's attempt to conceal it, Sy noticed the rage fueling him. They both knew who was responsible for what had happened. The only question that remained was the identity of the victim. Neither of them knew anybody who lived in the upper west side, so at the very least, they were sure that they had not lost another dear friend. However, as they got close, and the sound of sirens blasted through the midday sky, Mako began to suspect that something worse had occurred. He came to a full stop behind a thick wall of squad cars, and he ordered that Sy stay inside of the vehicle, despite her forceful objections. He hurriedly ducked through the barricade, and approached the small apartment that was sealed off with yellow tape and guarded by two senior officers. Lin was waiting outside for him, a scowl permanently attached to her face.

"Chief, I'm here," he said, sweat running down his brow. "Where's the body?"

"In there," she said. "Fair warning: it's not a pretty sight."

Mako gulped, and followed Lin to the front door. The officers nodded, and pulled up the tape to allow the two inside. Maki stepped over, and was instantly assaulted by a dreadful odor. What he saw next was even worse.

Valos Basteln—or whatever was left of him—was rotting on the floor, his thick, round skull cracked open like an egg shell. His bulbous belly was sliced wide open, and his innards had been arranged on the counter nearby, the blood dripping down the sides and pooling at the bottom. Above the organs, written sloppily in blood, was a single character: _gluttony_.

"We found him like this an hour ago," Lin said regretfully. "There aren't any signs of a forced entry, but the forensics team thinks that he was killed sometime around midnight, while we were focused on dealing with Bolin and Opal."

"They were just a diversion," Mako realized, "from his _actual_ target. He must have known that you were planning on luring him into a trap." He did not know what angered him more: the face that the Hanzi Killer killed the best opportunity they had at catching him, or the idea that he wounded his family just to lure them away.

"We were so close," Lin mused. "I actually thought we had him this time." She paused. "At least we can take solace in the fact that we didn't lose anyone of value."

"That's not really a comforting thought," Mako said bitterly, turning away in disgust. He exited the apartment, and walked back towards his vehicle. Lin made no attempt to stop him. It was a rough day, and she could not do anything for him. They were, once again, back to square one. No reliable leads. Plenty of dead. One psychotic killer still on the loose. It was hard to get much worse than that.

But then, right before he got into his car, Mako saw someone approaching the crime scene. The tall, jagged figure was unmistakable as his long legs strode forward. His greasy hair was still tangled and drooped over his face, but he was dressed reasonably, as if he was ready for a night on the town, despite the fact that he had no reason to be out so far from his home.

"Hey, pretty boy," Jackdaw said with a grin, stepping up to the detective. "It seems like you're awfully busy tonight."

"What are you doing here, Domin?" Mako asked worriedly. "You know you're breaking your probation by being out here."

"I'm not breaking anything," Jackdaw retorted. "Last time I checked, my mission was to gather information about the Hanzi Killer. So here I am, gathering information. Unless you don't want my help catching the man who almost killed your brother…"

Mako gasped. "How do you—"

"Word travels fast, and it's my job to collect as many words as possible." He peered over Mako's shoulders, and smirked. "It's a shame about the old Tinkerer. He had some decent talent. Too bad he felt the urge to waste it on so many perverse things. I guess it's really for the better what happened to him, now that I think about it."

Mako felt a shiver run up his spine. That tingly, uneasy feeling was returning, and as he looked in Jackdaw's eyes, he saw not resentment or disappointment about the night's events, but pure, absolute joy. It was almost as if he had planned for this all along.

A little voice cried out in his head: maybe he really _did_.

However, before he could respond, Sy burst out of the car, and tugged sharply on his arm. "Mako, come on. Let's get out of here already."

"And who's this?" Jackdaw smiled gently. Mako pushed Sy behind him.

"She's nobody," he said defiantly.

"Please, I'm interested. I never realized that you could actually make friends with another person."

"Hey, don't insult my boyfriend," Sy barked and took a step forward. Jackdaw merely chuckled.

"Boyfriend? I had you completely wrong, pretty boy. I never would have guessed that you liked them so… _young_."

"I'm nineteen, asshole," Sy said angrily, jutting forward against Mako's wishes and prodding the former cultist's chest with a solitary digit. "And why don't you shut your trap before I make you shut it?"

Jackdaw bent over, so that he could be at eye-level with the feisty woman. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. But before you do something you might regret, think about this: You have very beautiful skin. It would be a travesty to get blood all over it."

"Don't worry," Sy shot back. "It won't be mine."

Before she could say another word, Mako grabbed her wrist, and threw her back into the car. He hurried around the other side, slammed the door as hard as he could, and sped off, leaving Jackdaw chuckling to himself by the crime scene.

"Hey, stop dragging me places I don't want to go!" she complained.

"Sorry," he said combing his fingers through his hair. "But it's just best if I get you back home right now."

"Home?" Sy questioned. "You mean… _my_ home?"

"Yeah. It's probably for the best that you keep your distance from me for a little while."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "What's with the change of heart?"

"No change of heart," Mako said, still reeling from his confrontation with the criminal. "It's just that after seeing that performance, I don't think I can handle trying to work out our sleeping arrangements."

"Ha ha. Very funny," Sy smiled. "Hey, you actually made a joke! See, I made you feel better already!"

"I wouldn't exactly say I'm feeling better," Mako quipped.

"Maybe not, but you got to admit," Sy crossed her arms triumphantly; "I verbally kicked that guy's ass."

"That was kind of cool," Mako admitted. "I don't think anyone has talked back to Jackdaw like that before."

"You're damn right no one has," Sy laughed. She blinked twice, paused for a long moment, and then let out a panicked scream. "Wait, _that_ was Jackdaw!?"


	23. The Invasion

Balance. Control. Peace.

Korra repeated her mantra as she meditated. She could feel all of her anxiety slowly slip away, like water flowing down a stream. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and gently exhaled through her mouth. She repeated her mantra once more. Balance. Control. Peace.

"_Hypocrite."_

The word pierced Korra's mind like a knife. Vivid images of blood engraved themselves in her head, and she could hear nothing but the sound of children's pained moans. Her eyes shot open, and her calm breaths became rigid. The early morning sun cast her shadow long across her bedroom. She had not been able to sleep since the incident at the school. Every time she closed her eyes, an avalanche of guilt overcame her. For the last three hours, she sat on her bed in nothing but her pajamas, trying to clear her thoughts.

The torment was relentless, overwhelming even. She hopped out of bed, and trudged to the bathroom. She went straight to the sink, and threw warm water onto her face. Korra looked at her reflection in the mirror; her eyes were bloodshot and heavy. She frowned and rubbed her thumb against her engagement ring, which still held its reflective sheen.

Korra needed a workout. It was still her favorite way to relieve stress, even if Tenzin disapproved. But then again, Tenzin was still gone, so she had nothing to be concerned about. Without changing clothes, Korra left her room, and quietly made her way through the temple to the courtyard. The island was mostly abandoned, leaving Korra to enjoy her barefooted walk along the stone field in peace.

Well, it was something close to peace. Her mind wandered to the events of the day before. Mako had called her, and told her that their best lead on the Hanzi Killer was dead. She wasn't so sure however. It was entirely possible that their best lead was perfectly fine, and just remained undiscovered. Korra was getting more suspicious of Illu Satori every day, and her almost-violent behavior yesterday practically confirmed her involvement.

By the time a dark cloud blocked out the morning sun, Korra had reached the training grounds. She did not bother stretching before beginning her first exercise. She walked to the punching bag lying in the far back corner (because she was the only person who ever got any use out of it), lifted it by its chains, strung it up high on a pole, and the delivered a swift roundhouse kick that nearly knocked it back to the ground.

She went to work efficiently. Every punch she threw was infused with the fury of watching everyone she cared about being hurt one-by-one. Even as her arms tired, she did not let up her assault on the punching bag. It took all of her rage that she had been rejecting for days. She was so caught up in her actions that she did not hear the footsteps of a young woman approaching.

"Korra, what are you doing out here?" Jinora asked from afar. The airbender had the good sense to get dressed before walking into the open, something which Korra lacked.

"Working out," the Avatar explained.

"Shouldn't you have taped up your hands beforehand? You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'll be fine." Korra struck the bag with a thud. She grunted, and drove a knee into the body. Jinora took a seat on the floor.

"Is something bothering you?" she asked worriedly.

"What _isn't_ bothering me?"

"Fair point," Jinora admitted, "but I don't think this is the best way of handling it."

"Meditation wasn't cutting it. I just… I just really need to hit something."

"Something or someone?"

Korra grinded her teeth, and leaned against her foe. "You didn't see what happened at that school yesterday."

"You can't blame yourself for that."

"Yes, I can," Korra stated. "_I_ told Masaki to fight back against those kids. _I'm_ his role model. And all he ever learned from me was that violence solves problems."

"But that isn't your fault," said Jinora. "You tried to give self-esteem to a kid, and he took the lesson the wrong way. You said yourself that he has learning deficiency problems. I know that you would never try to teach a kid that killing a bully is the way to fix everything wrong in his life."

"Clearly, I already did," Korra said dismissively. "Whatever he picked up had to come from somewhere. Face it: we tend to solve a lot of our problems by hitting it."

"Hitting Kuvira didn't stop her. Reasoning with her did. You're struggling with an issue that isn't even real."

Korra slammed her fist into the bag. "Three kids almost _died_ because of me! I saw the pain in their eyes! That's _real_, Jinora, about as real as you can get." She shoved the punching bag away. "I'm supposed to _protect_ people. That's the one thing I'm meant to do. If I can't save a little kid… how am I supposed to save _anyone_?"

Jinora did not have an answer. She merely shrugged, and said honestly, "Because that's what you do."

Korra turned away from her young friend. Her eyes wandered to the bag, but she did not see it. All she saw was a corpse, bleeding and decaying as it hanged from the chains imbedded in its rotten flesh. Every time she blinked, the body changed; first it was Lin, and then Bolin, Opal, the children, Illu, Masaki, and an endless string of others. She blinked again, and there was Asami, strung up like a piece of meat, her head carved open and brains spilling out of her cracked skull. Her flawless skin was black and decrepit, and even while dead, she still smiled warmly at Korra, the woman who could not save her.

Korra yelled, and punted Asami in the head, sending her limb body flying off of the stand and exploding into pieces upon contact with the hard ground.

* * *

Asami tightened the bolt firmly into place, as the great engine groaned and cried in protest.

"Come on, baby," Asami muttered. "Please work this time."

She wiped the sweat from her brow, and reached over to the large lever that served as the machine's power switch. She tugged on it three times, and listened to the engine suddenly roar to life. She breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, her joy was short lives, as smoke began to quickly poor out of the pistons, and a loud screech echoed through the chamber. She hurriedly threw the emergency breaker, and the engine was hushed.

Asami kicked the damned machine. It wasn't like that would break it any further. For all she knew, since it was being so temperamental, maybe a kick would do it some good. Or maybe, she just wanted to get some frustration out, and kicking Shang in the head wasn't a readily available option. She had plenty of frustration: having most of the people she considered family be severely maimed, being told not to help by the woman she devoted herself to, having her company on the verge of bankruptcy, and having the airship break down for several days, causing her to be stuck with someone she couldn't stand. Redesigning all of Republic City's transportation lines was less stressful, and significantly easier, since at the very least, people decided to leave her alone.

Shang popped his head into the engine room. "That didn't sound good."

"I don't need the commentary," Asami growled. Shang shrugged and left. In one hour, he would show up again, say something stupid, and leave. Asami had every intention of getting the airship working before that happened.

What would really be helpful was if Varrick and Zhu Li would actually help out. It was the latter's idea to continue working on their project while Asami would get them back in the air. The Sato heiress initially agreed enthusiastically. After all, if they could get their work done, then their journey would be pointless. But now, after toiling for five straight hours in the humid, steamy engine room, Asami couldn't help but feel envious of the married couple. At least they had each other. She had not seen her better half in weeks.

Korra. She was going through so much. Asami made a mental note to give the Avatar a giant hug when she returned. They would both need it. However, every time she thought of comforting her closest friend, a stern voice pierced through her mind, and told her that she didn't deserve it.

There was no getting around the issue. The guilt was overwhelming. Asami could barely look herself in the mirror. She swore that when they next spoke, she would tell Korra the truth, about everything. And when the time came, she lied. Even after everything that had happened-even after Bolin and Opal got hurt-she lied right to her fiancé. It was disgraceful.

So it would remain a secret, for now. Until somebody else got hurt.

Asami refocused on her work. She examined the engine carefully, but could not seem to find anything wrong. She had already taken it apart and put it back together again twice, and she had scrubbed each individual plate, piston, and tube completely clean. Every wire that was so much as chipped was replaced, and she thoroughly checked every chain and gear of possible blockages and oiled them well. It was practically brand new, but for some reason, every time she turned it on, the smoke would start bellowing out, and it would screech and cry and complain about its seemingly invisible ailments.

"What's the matter with you?" Asami asked out loud. The engine held its silence. "Are you overheated?" She ran the back of her hand across the surface of the machine. Lukewarm at best. "Maybe grease is getting clogged in your transmission?" She cracked the engine open, yet everything inside seemed squeaky clean. "Are you just being a jerk?"

The machine groaned. Asami followed suit.

"This is ridiculous," she said. "You're not broken. I know you are not broken. There literally isn't anything wrong with you. I just need you to work for a few more days. Please."

When the machine refused to cooperate, Asami screamed, picked up a wrench, and struck the metal has hard as she possibly could. The side panel broke off, and cracked open on the floor. Asami was taken aback, and dropped her weapon in shock.

She knew something was wrong. She may have been strong compared to the average person, but she knew that she had nowhere the strength necessary to break a plate of steel clean in half. She knelt down by the broken material, and picked it up in her hand. It was unusually light compared to the metal that surrounded it in the mechanism. The texture was off, too; it felt more like plaster than a component of the ship. She examined it further, whipping out a flashlight from her toolbox and shining it on its brightest setting.

It only took a few moments for her to spot the wires.

The rubbery red wire extended partway out of the crack in the metal, and ran deep inside the structure, buried within two centimeters of hollow space. Pulling out a screw driver, Asami dug into the compartment, and tore it open with surprising ease. Inside, she saw more small wires and something even more peculiar-the broken remnants of a circuit board.

"What are you doing in there?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She pulled out the remaining circuitry with a pair of tweezers, because the last thing she wanted was to be zapped by some broken electrical equipment. She turned it over, and pursed her lips. The technology was relatively new, and she was far from fully understanding it. However, she had enough knowledge of mechanics to know that there was no place for a circuit board within an airship engine. No wonder the ship went down. Someone had tampered with it.

Asami kept the circuit board held close as she left the engine room, and made her way to the front of the ship. The freshly circulated air felt cool on her moist skin, and she took a deep breath to fully appreciate how everything was not hot and sticky. Hopefully, Varrick knew something bout circuitry. After all, he was someone who liked to experiment with new tech, and she wouldn't put it past him to strap an experiment to the engine to plan for some new, money-making scheme. Naturally, she would prefer if he kept those experiments to himself, and when she had no personal stakes in the matter, but she was getting ahead of herself.

As she approached the main lounge, she heard two voices arguing up ahead, both male. She was hardly surprised. She could not hear the specifics, but imagined that the conversation was about something completely irrelevant. As it always was.

Asami turned the corner, and her eyes went wide. Two strange men were standing in the midst of their research, bickering to each other. Varrick was passed out on top of a pile of garbage. Zhu Li was slumped over one of the men's shoulder. On instinct, she dove back, and hid herself behind the corner of the door.

"It really hurts," one complained, his voice high and whiny and his head covered with curls.

"You're pathetic," the other complained right back, his voice grouchy and insincere and his hairline receding rapidly. "Look at how small she is. There's no way it hurts that bad."

"She kicked me right in the chin! I think she broke something."

"Once again: you're pathetic. Thank goodness for chloroform. Bison would have killed us if we let them slip out."

Asami was only half-paying attention to the conversation. Most of her focus was directed out the large windows to her left. Six custom-made cars were pulled up to the side of the airship. Multiple hooks and metal tethers were clamped to their backs, and were tightly attached to the flying vessel on all sides. She knew that there was some risk of piracy when flying over deserted Earth Kingdom territory, yet she had never fully been worried about the possibility. But with the engine broken, they were sitting ducks to any crook that roamed the barren wasteland. "Bison" must have been their leader, and he probably feinted seeing the sight of an Ingenious Enterprises airship parked in the middle of nowhere.

Asami needed to act quickly. As she planned her attack, the door to the captain's quarters above her opened, and she caught a small glimpse of the person who claimed her ship for their own. It was a woman, young, dark-skinned and rather short, who strolled confidently onto the balcony, long brown hair flowing past her shoulders, and an eyepatch placed over her left eye, wrapping around her forehead. In one hand, she dragged a screaming, irritated Shang; in the other, she held a large, black chest with a keyhole plated in silver on the front.

"You two finished up yet?" Bison asked with a sneer.

"Yeah, but it wasn't easy," the man with curly hair responded. "Turns out the lady knew how to fight. She kicked me—"

"Do I look like I care?" Bison groaned. "Really, do I look like I give a single fuck about your problems?"

"Actually, if I could interject," Shang said snidely. Bison gave a sharp tug on his arm, and he yelped in pain.

"Keep your mouth shut," she ordered. "What's in the box?"

"Something far too important for your insignificant mind to comprehend. Also, I would be very careful about how you hold onto that."

"Oh," Bison said with a smirk. "So you're saying it's something really delicate and valuable?"

"No. Technically, I'm _implying _that. You're jumping to conclusions."

"Yeesh, you never shut up." Bison grabbed Shang by the collar, and with the turn of her hip, she threw him over the railing, off the balcony, and onto the hard ground three meters below. Bison leapt down after him, nearly crushing his head with the sole of her boot on her landing. Shang moaned, and she kicked his wounds. Asami backed away carefully, keeping her focus on the pirate leader in front of her. Bison landed only a few feet away, but thankfully, she had not been noticed yet. The situation was getting out of hand. She needed to call for help. Chances were that some delivery ship was nearby. If only she could find a way to contact them.

And then, she felt the cold press of a blade against her neck from behind. A voice whispered, "Take another step, and I will rip your throat open."

Asami froze in place. The others quickly noticed her presence, and it was only a matter of seconds before her arms were restrained, and more men started rushing into the hallway. There was no way she could hold off that many people at once in her condition. Bison approached her, and clasped the engineer's face in her dark fingers.

"Thought you could get away, did you?" Bison taunted. "You aren't going anywhere we don't want you to. Hey, wait a minute… you look really familiar."

"I probably look like a lot of decent people you've robbed," Asami hissed.

"No, that's not it," Bison said with disdain. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Do you know what's in this box?"

"I've never seen it before," Asami stated truthfully. Still, that did not mean she wasn't curious about its contents.

"Ugh, you're all useless." Bison pointed at several of her men. "You idiots: take the ladies down to the cargo hold and tie them up as best as you can. Also, I need one of you to bring that talkative guy to the bathroom, and make him suffer in the most creative manner you can think of."

"What about the other one?" asked the gruff grunt. Bison smiled.

"Oh, him? I'm taking him—and this little chest here—right to the captain's quarters. He has a cute face."

"You do realize that you aren't going to get away with this?" Asami said forcefully.

Bison rolled her eyes. "Wow. I've only heard that line about one hundred thousand times in my life. Hey, wanna hear something _really_ original?"

Asami opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Bison's foot connected with her temple, and she was knocked out cold.

* * *

**Note: Part 2 coming soon! Stay tuned for more!**


	24. A Date with Disaster

**Note: We know that when we last left on a cliffhanger, we said that we would get the second part out quickly. Well, one trip to the hospital later (everything's fine), and we've decided that we want to focus on something different to help us get back in the groove of things. We'll back to Asami's struggles soon enough, but for now, we just want to give thanks for everyone who has kept with us on this long, arduous journey, and give a little something else back in return (i.e. a new chapter). Thank you for your patience. Enjoy.**

* * *

The exact word Sy had used was "catastrophic". Mako raced to the coffee shop without hesitation, breathing heavily the whole way there. There was a clear indication of panic in her voice when she called him so early in the morning that his senses had yet to fully activate. It was noticeable enough to rattle him awake, hop straight into his uniform and hurriedly drive to the location at which his girlfriend desperately needed him.

Mako couldn't help but imagine the horrific possibilities. His first instinct was that something happened with Jackdaw. He was being targeted by the Hanzi Killer, and it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume that if that monster wanted to continue to hurt him, then she would be his next target. Jackdaw had already threatened her before, or more accurately, she threatened him. If she wanted to meet at the coffee shop, then it meant that she probably did not feel safe in her own home, which only further worried him.

In the midst of his crazed thoughts, he drifted into the opposite lane, and narrowly swerved past an on-coming truck. He was not in a police cruiser, and so the multitude of cars in front of him did not give him passage through the streets. His sweaty palms slipped off of the steering wheel, and when he finally did arrive, he could not even find a decent parking spot. He ended up parking half a block away, and sprinted to the coffee after forgetting to pay the meter.

When Mako burst into the shop, he expected to find everything on fire. He expected corpses to be strewn about on the tables, blood to be smeared in thick coats on the walls, and echoes of screams and chaos everywhere. However, everything was pretty much the way he remembered it. The plump old man who owned the joint was behind the counter, crafting his magnificent brew. The tables and chairs were neat and orderly. And most importantly, Sy was sitting in her usual spot as dim sunlight reflected off of her pale, emotionless face. A large coffee was in her hand, but untouched by her lips.

"Sy!" Mako shouted, somewhat relieved but mostly confused. Sy waved him over, and offered him a drink.

"You might need this," she moaned.

"Sy, what's going on?" Mako asked, nervously taking the seat across from her. "You said there was a catastrophe."

"Oh, there is," she mused quite calmly.

"What's wrong? Is it the Hanzi Killer? Jackdaw? Are you in danger?"

"Wha—no, none of that," Sy dismissed him with a pass of her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you really think I would get myself into a life or death situation? I'm not _that_ dumb."

Mako blinked twice. "If you're not in any danger," he asked, "then why did you call me over like it was an emergency?"

"It's totally an emergency," Sy explained with a small grin. "It's just that neither of us are going to die. Well, you might die…"

"Do you want to give me the details?"

Sy brushed the flowing strands of white hair out of her eyes, and looked away. She spoke sternly. "Mako, you and I are both adults. We are both considered—by the lawful force that you have dedicated your life to, mind you—to be fully-functioning, sophisticated adults that can handle any problem thrown at us with logic and reasoning."

"I'm listening."

"You, however, are a lot more of an adult than I am. I don't just mean that because you're older; I mean that you are taking the whole 'adult' thing way more close to the heart. You, for example, have a job that pays you. In money. On a weekly basis. You follow a strict set of life choices that you are constantly in control of. You choose what to eat and when to eat. You choose where you want to live, and then you… well, live there, I guess. My point is, you have a lot of agency in your decision-making process."

"Go on."

"I am the exact opposite. I don't have a job. I don't want a job. The thought of working on anything at all makes me want to jump off of a bridge. I don't want responsibility in any way, shape or form. That's not my thing. That's why I live with my parents. They cook for me, clean for me, and generally take care of me. I'm perfectly fine with that, because it gives me more time to do things I actually enjoy doing, like talking to you, for instance. And usually, the benefits of that system grossly outweigh the costs. We live opposite lifestyles, but that's not a bad thing. Who said that was a bad thing? I didn't say that was a bad thing. No one did. Anyone who did say it is an idiot. It's what makes us such a budding duo, you know? We go so perfectly together, like Yin and Yang, milk and sugar, hallucinogenic drugs and—"

"Get to the point, Sy."

Sy cleared her throat. "The thing is that living with my parents means that they still have some important fraction of control over my life. And when there is something that I'm doing that they don't appreciate, they shut it down. And as of right now, the thing they want to shut down… is you."

"Your parents want you to break up with me?" Mako asked in disbelief.

"No, no, no," Sy said quickly. "They just want to meet you to see if you're a decent guy. And the time they want to meet you is tomorrow night. And if you don't show up, _then_ I'll have to break up with you. And if you don't impress them, _then_ my father might snap your neck."

Mako did not blink at all. He could only stare in absolute confusion. "So, let me get this straight," he said after several long moments of uncomfortable silence. "You called me all the way over here and scared the crap out of me… just to tell me that I have to spend an evening with your parents. _That_ is what you deem a catastrophe?"

"Well, yeah!" she exclaimed. "This is our _relationship_ that's on the line! I think that's something to get pretty worked up about."

"Sy, there is a psycho killer literally roaming the streets trying to kill people I care about, and my brother and sister-in-law are lying half-dead in a hospital," Mako sighed. "I have way more important things to be worried about than whether your parents like me."

"Sorry, but we don't really have the time to delay this any further. I've been stalling them for months, but I can't keep it up any longer. They want to meet you _now_, and I can't change that."

"Then try harder. Put your foot down. I saw you stand up to a known cop-killer; I think you can stand up to your own parents."

"Maybe I don't want to stand up to them," Sy objected. "It's one thing talking back to some guy that I didn't even know was dangerous. But they're my _parents_, Mako. And believe it or not, I would really, really like it if they at least tolerated you. We can't keep dodging this forever."

"I don't have the time for this. I have—"

"You have to investigate, I know," Sy complained. "I get that you're on your whole quest for vengeance right now, but this means something to me. I don't think Bolin would want your life to stop completely because of him. If you want that life to include me, then I really need you to go along with this, just for one day."

Mako rubbed his temples in frustration. How could someone so adorable cause him so much trouble? Maybe she had a point. A small distraction from his investigation couldn't do too much harm. Could it?

"What do you need me to do?" he finally gave in. Sy's face lit up with excitement.

"Oh, you're fantastic!" she squealed. "All you need to do is show up at my house at around seven o'clock. Wear something nice. Like a plaid shirt. Or a tuxedo. Do you own a tuxedo? Maybe buy a tuxedo. You can't be too careful. And also, maybe bring some flowers or something. My mom loves flowers. Red, specifically. And probably some wine for my dad. Well, maybe you could try to give him flowers too, but I don't know how that would work out. No one has ever offered him flowers before, so you probably shouldn't experiment with that. You're getting all of this, right? Am I talking too fast?"

"I think I got it," Mako said hesitantly. "Where do you live?"

"You don't know where I live?"

"Why would I? You never invite me over."

Sy rolled her eyes. "Okay, do you know where the Winged-Lion district is?"

Mako nearly let out an audible gasp. "You live in the Winged-Lion District? The most luxurious area in all of Republic City?"

"Uh… yes?" Sy said with a shrug. "My dad is the biggest real estate mogul in the entire continent."

"I thought—what was his name—Jampa Kyoriku was the biggest real estate guy on the continent?"

"Yeah," Sy stated bluntly. "He's my dad."

Mako audibly gasped. He may have lived a sheltered life, but even he had heard stories of the vicious business dealings of the man they called "Jampa the Savage". His supposed, unproven connections to the Triple Threat Triads and other street gangs and tales of swindles and shady business practices made him infamous amongst the police force. There were so many stories about him that it was almost impossible to determine what was fact and what was fiction. One story Mako heard was about a group of tenants who refused to sell their apartments to Jampa, who wanted to construct a luxury hotel. Over the course of two weeks, every single tenant that refused the deal was either killed in gang hits or fled the city outright. Another story was that Jampa had kidnapped the family of the head of a rival real estate company to force a buyout that would grant the Savage a monopoly over east Earth Kingdom territory. Yet despite these rampant tales, he remained untouchable, whether from his wealth, power, or a plain lack of evidence. Jampa's reach extended over Republic City, Omashu, parts of Ba Sing Se, and practically every single region of the Earth Kingdom. He was a man that one would be wise not to make enemies with, or else face grave consequences.

Mako just so happened to be in a relationship with his daughter. And somehow, this dinner date was supposed to _relieve_ pressure.

"Mako? _Mako_?" Sy asked worriedly, snapping her fingers in front of his face to knock him out of his shocked trance.

"Why didn't you tell me Jampa the—I mean, _he_ was your father?" Mako whispered in panic.

"I thought you could figure it out, considering we have the same last name!"

"You never told me your last name," Mako argued. "You said that you wanted me to know as little about you as possible."

"I didn't…" Sy reflected for a moment, then scrunched her nose and asked incredulously, "Did I not tell you that?"

Mako shook his head. Sy groaned.

"Well, don't stress too much. The tabloids make him out much worse than he actually is. When you get to know him, he's a pretty nice guy."

"You've repeatedly told me that he's going to kill me if I don't give a good impression. You literally say this every time I see you."

"Okay, maybe 'nice' is a bit of a stretch," Sy reasoned nervously. "But he's… no, not generous… not really compassionate, either… he's _decent_. Let's say that he can be _decent_. When he feels like it, which admittedly… isn't that often… but still, that counts for something!"

"Oh boy," Mako said, resting his face in his palms. Sy awkwardly patted him on the head.

"You'll be fine," Sy assured him. "I've put in a good word for you. Plus, my mom will be there to keep him in line. What's the worst that can happen?"

"He rips my head off, and then eats it."

"Hey, my dad's a jerk, but he's no murderer. Just be your typical stoic, respectful, monotone self and we will be in the clear. Good?"

Mako did not know if Sy was aware of her father's legacy. He did not even know how much of that legacy was true to begin with. But if there was ever someone who understood the truth behind Jampa the Savage, it would probably be his daughter. She would have to be his shield for one night instead of the other way around. Mako was okay with that. Sy could be forgetful, brash and bizarre, but she had a passion that was unmatched by anyone Mako had ever known. He knew that she would always have his back, and that was enough to make him forget about his worries for a minute and smile.

"I see why you don't like to talk back to your parents," Mako said with a grin. Sy finished off her coffee in one large gulp.

"Eck, don't smile," she joked. "Seeing you happy makes me uncomfortable. Go back to being mopey."

"Actually, I need to go buy some flowers." Mako stood up, and offered his hand, which Sy took gleefully.

"There's a shop two blocks over," she said. "I have to make sure you don't mess this up. Someone once gave my mom roses instead of lilacs, and my dad ripped their arm off and beat them repeatedly with it."

Mako's smile vanished. Sy burst out laughing, scrunching her nose as she chuckled at her own twisted sense of humor.

"You are _way_ too easy," she cackled as they exited the coffee shop. Then, all at once, her laughter disappeared, and she stared blankly ahead as a horrific memory ran through her mind. "Seriously though, whatever you do, _don't_ pick roses. I cannot stress that enough."

* * *

Korra's nightmares did not recede. No matter what she did to take her mind off of the violence, it still prodded her mind resolutely. She sunk into the soft comfort of her mattress with burden. Another wasted day had passed her by. Terror was still abundant on the streets.

The phone rang, and Korra's heart skipped a beat. It had been days since she had last spoken to Asami, and she had not the slightest clue as to why. She stumbled as he grabbed the phone near her bed, and her words came out shakily.

"H-hello?"

"Hey, Korra."

The voice was not Asami's. It was small and enervated, as if its owner had just finished shouting after a long while and wore out their voice.

"Masaki?" Korra asked, confused. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," responded the boy. Korra sat upright, and her knees began to quiver. The last time she saw the young child, he had nearly killed three of his classmates. It was his actions that had been driving her so mad over the past several days. She could barely contain her emotions. She was not sure whether to beg for forgiveness or scream in fury. However, she did not have to make a choice.

"I… I wanted to call you to let you know that I'm sorry," Masaki said hurriedly, catching Korra off-guard.

"You're sorry?" Korra repeated in surprise.

"For the… you know. And for everything I said to you. That wasn't me."

Korra did not know how to respond. "I, um, accept your apology. Although, I don't think _I'm_ the one that you should be apologizing to."

"I don't know if I can," Masaki said weakly. "They suspended me from school. They said that they wanted to take me for a psychological evaluation. They just want to get rid of me."

"They? Who? Who's trying to get rid of you?"

"I didn't mean to hit them so hard," Masaki continued. "All I wanted was for them to stop bullying me. They're the ones who beat me up every day. They're the violent ones. I just wanted a little payback. But now I'm still being punished. It's not fair."

"I know it doesn't seem fair, but they're just trying to do what they think is right," Korra tried to explain, doubting that she was getting through to the boy.

"I let you down," Masaki moaned. Korra heard something from the other end of the line that struck like a knife to her heart: sobbing.

"Masaki?"

"You were one of the only people who wanted to be my friend, and I let you down," Masaki cried openly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I snapped at you and disappointed you. I'm so sorry for everything."

"No, Masaki, you didn't disappoint me," Korra said hastily, but Masaki ignored her, lost in his own tears.

"It's all my fault, and now you'll never be my friend again…"

Korra opened her mouth, but no words came out. What was she supposed to do? She was unprepared for something like this. All she could manage was to hush a few kind words and assure the child that everything would be okay, and she would still be his friend. He was just a boy, after all.

Slowly, the sobs dissipated, and the crackling voice over the line faded away. Korra talked Masaki down with slow, simple words, like quieting a baby. When Masaki had fallen silent, Korra tried getting back to her point.

"Masaki, you said that they were after you," she said calmly. "Who do you think is after you?"

There was nothing but silence. Korra repeated the question, yet no response came forth. For a full thirty seconds, there was no sound but the dim crackle of the phone.

And then, suddenly, there was a crash and a distant shriek. Korra leapt off of her bed, and hunched over the phone.

"K-Korra!" Masaki screamed, his voice distant. "Help me! Korra!" There was another loud crash that sent shockwaves through Korra's body.

"Masaki! What's going on? Can you hear me?"

"Korra! Korra! Help me! She's taking me! She's trying to—ah, Korra!" Someone attempted to pick up the phone, but there was another crash, and Masaki's voice only faded further. Korra was left in the dark.

"Masaki! Hold on! I'll get the police and—"

The call cut off abruptly. The Avatar's heart raced, and as she hung up the telephone, she felt something give way inside, as if the pillars that had been holding her up inside had just crumbled into dust. It felt like a nightmare, but this was far too real. She did not need to see it to know what had just transpired. Even as the airbending children rushed to her room to check on her, she remained motionless, transfixed on the horrible truth.

Masaki Sugiyama had just been kidnapped by the Hanzi Killer.


	25. The Date with Disaster

**Note: Wow, we're late with an update. Honestly, it feels like its been an eternity. We hope you haven't forgotten about us. To make up for lost time, we've made this chapter DOUBLE-LENGTH, because we feel bad. Also, now is probably a good time to mention that we're entering the endgame of our story. Only about five or so chapters left to go after this one. Thanks to everyone who has followed and favorited "Crescendo". We are very grateful for all of the kind things you have said. So, enjoy this DOUBLE-LENGTH chapter, and once again, thanks from GodSaveTheKings.**

* * *

"His name is Masaki Sugiyama. He's twelve years old."

Lin Beifong sighed deeply, and ran a single hand across the contorted features of her weary face. Korra kept her eyes focused on the ground as she sat motionless across from the Chief's desk.

"What does he look like?" Lin asked, the procedural phrases jutting forth like a blade on her tongue.

"He's short," Korra stated blankly. "He has long, shaggy, dark hair, and he always has this big smile on his face."

"Personality isn't going to help me find him."

"No, I mean… he has this nerve defect in his face that forces him to smile constantly," Korra explained. "It's this very big, toothy grin, but he never looks happy when he does it."

"Gotcha," Lin said, jotting down the information on a notepad. "Do you really need to report this? Can't you just track the kid using that spirit energy nonsense?"

Korra felt a twinge of bitterness in her chest as Lin brought up that fact. Naturally, it was the very first thing she tried to do. It was an effortless process to locate someone by tapping into the energy of the world and find their specific signature, so long as she knew what to look for. At least, the process should have been simple.

"It didn't work," explained the Water Tribe warrior.

"You couldn't find him?"

"No. I mean, I couldn't _do it_," said Korra, practically embarrassed. "I can't feel the energy around me anymore. It requires my body and mind to be in perfect harmony with each other. I need to be at peace."

Lin understood. Peace was getting harder to come by each and every day. She continued her questioning. "So, you would say that Masaki stood out from the crowd more than other children?"

"Exactly."

"And you last heard from him last night?"

"Yes, when he was taken from his home. I already told you that."

"There's no need to get frustrated, Korra."

"I'm frustrated because you're wasting time," the Avatar said with a grunt. "Masaki is out there somewhere, and you won't even send out a team to investigate. We know where he was taken. We should be searching through his home for evidence."

"About that…" Lin folded her arms over her chest. "I've been having Chen go over records regarding the Sugiyama family. As it turns out, the Sugiyamas don't have a place of residence attached to their name. There isn't a single file to suggest that they ever had a home in Republic City at all."

Korra was taken aback. "That can't be right. Masaki walked home from school every day. Clearly, he had to go somewhere."

"Maybe his family rented out a space. If it was a temporary arrangement, it's possible we wouldn't have any information written about it."

"But the Hanzi Killer knew," Korra mused. She did not like it at all. A little boy was taken quietly into the night, ripped straight from the world like a flower plucked from its stem and denied sunlight. His parents were gone, probably additional victims to a serial killer. Until the Killer was brought to justice, it was likely that they would never find him.

But something else upset Korra. At first, she didn't notice the inflection, but as she relived the moment over and over again, it became very clear to her. Masaki claimed that "she" was trying to take him.

"Lin, I need to tell you something," Korra said, embarrassed. The Chief leaned back in her chair.

"What is it?" Lin asked calmly. Her unjudging eyes only made Korra feel guiltier.

"I've been… running my own investigation on Illu Satori."

"The sister of one of the victims?"

"That's her. She happens to be a teacher at Masaki's school. Not only that, but it's the same school where the other kidnapped child went to."

Lin connected the dots easily. "You really think that this woman is the Hanzi Killer?"

"Considering everything that I know about her: yes." Korra looked into Lin's eyes as she spoke those words. Saying them out loud released all of the tension in her chest, and caused an overwhelming sense of relief to wash over her. The young woman continued. "She had a very strained relationship with her sister before she was killed. A few days ago, Masaki got into a fight with her son during school hours and badly beat him. And before that, I caught a conversation of her talking to a shady man on a street corner. He said something about her doing some work for his boss, and by the sound of it, it wasn't legal."

Lin stopped her briefly. "Korra, you haven't been _stalking_ this woman, have you?"

Korra shook her head. "Not really, no."

"Not really? So you _did_ do it? Because I'm pretty sure that's a crime."

"I didn't mean to. It's complicated. I accidentally ran into her on my way home, and since I thought she was doing something wrong, I just decided to… _investigate_ it."

Lin sighed, and dismissed her grievance with a flick of her wrist. "So, when you were busy _not_ breaking the law, did you happen to catch the name of who she was going to work for?"

"I didn't hear a name," Korra confessed, "but there was another thing off about it. Apparently, she already had a history of crime, but gave it up recently."

Chief Beifong mulled over the evidence. "I don't know. There's still nothing linking Satori to the other victims. And if she got out of crime, why would she attack so many people, including me?"

"Does that matter?" asked Korra. "We have a motivation, and we have connections. That's more than enough evidence."

"We have fragments," Lin stated. "Fragments aren't enough to condemn a woman to prison for life, especially if there are still doubts."

"I don't have any doubts," said Korra, feeling more frustrated than ever. "It feels like we've been searching for the Hanzi Killer forever, and now that we finally have a clear link, you don't want to act on it? Why don't you ever take anything I say seriously? What is the matter with you?"

Lin slammed her fist on her desk, startling Korra into silence. "Don't talk back to me. I'm not the one who disobeyed specific instructions to stay out of the investigation and broke the law."

"Oh, so that's your problem?" Korra asked with a sneer. "You're just mad because I managed to do more on my own than the police could ever manage. You're _jealous_."

"That's ridiculous," said Lin, grinding her teeth. "I'm trying to do things reasonably. I'm not spying on possible guilty parties. I'm not running around encouraging young children to beat the shit out of each other."

Korra gasped. "How did you—"

"Illu Satori attempted to file an assault charge against Masaki Sugiyama yesterday," Lin explained. "The case was dropped in regards to Masaki's age, but in the file, you were listed as an associate to violence. Look, I honestly don't care about whatever personal demons you're struggling with, but acting out against an innocent woman all because of one kid isn't going to solve anything."

"It's not—"

"And excessive vigilantism isn't going to fix anything either. The city is being swallowed by chaos. We need to show the people _and_ the Hanzi Killer that we don't have to be as violent and crazed as he is to take him down. Once we stoop to that level, he's already proven his point."

Korra shot up from her chair, infuriated. "Obeying the law didn't stop Bolin and Opal from getting blown up in their own home! It didn't stop your prime suspect from being killed under your protection! I'm sick and tired of you wasting my time while innocent people are dying. You keep holding me back when I could help you, and you don't give me the respect that I deserve."

"You're acting like a child," Lin said bluntly.

"I'm being childish?" Korra shouted, her voice mixed with shock and anger. "Do you know what I see when I look at you, Lin? I see a woman whose entire life is living up to be a _failure_. I see a woman who has spent her entire life trying to protect this city, and can't do anything but watch it _crumble_ around her. I see a woman who is _afraid_ because she is watching everyone she cares about being hurt, and she knows that it's her fault for not doing enough to _save_ them. I see a woman who is so ashamed of her own _failure_ that she is willing to push aside all logic and reasoning, and push aside all of her friends, so _she_ can be the one who finally catches the Hanzi Killer, just so she can try to reclaim the feeling that she _matters_."

Korra was breathless, panting heavily as a crowd began to gather outside of Lin's office. Her eyes were to blue fireballs blasting directly into Lin's heart. However, the Police Chief maintained her composure, and responded without her lips ever breaking a horizontal plane.

"You're not even _trying_ to pretend that you're talking about me, are you?"

Korra had enough. She grabbed her wooden chair, and with a yell, threw the object against the office wall, causing it to splinter and dent the plastered surface. Lin stayed firmly planted in her seat, knowing that they eyes of her co-workers were cast on her.

"Fuck you," Korra said, laced with venom. "You want to sit here and let Illu Satori get away with murder? Fine. But I'll be damned if I let her get away without paying for what she's done."

Korra turned and left the office, shoving her way past the police officers that she used to consider her comrades.

"You can't take the law into your own hands, Korra," Lin called after her. "I won't let you hurt that woman."

"Arrest me."

Korra left the police station without resistance. Lin Beifong simply sighed deeply, and ran a single hand across the contorted features of her weary face.

* * *

As it turned out, Sy wasn't exaggerating about her family's fortune. One look at the colossal structure that she called a home would tell anybody such. When Mako approached the massive mansion, he found his path blocked by a large, steel gate and four security guards wearing elegant suits. Mako adjusted his collar as they approached, surrounding his car and staring him down as if he was an insect.

The chief guard knocked on Mako's window, and as the detective rolled it down, he couldn't help but notice the club hooked onto the man's belt. He was an elderly man, but his complexion held years' worth of hardship and struggle.

"You Mako?" the guard questioned.

"Yes, sir," Mako stated nervously.

"The family is expecting you," said the guard. He leaned inwards. "I want you to listen close, kid. If you do anything to hurt that little girl—be it break her heart or step on her toe—I will rip your testicles off and shove them down your throat. Is that perfectly clear?"

Mako nodded enthusiastically. The guard, seemingly satisfied, looked over to the passenger seat, where a bundle of red roses rested comfortably.

"Are those for the matriarch?"

Mako nodded again, struggling to free his tongue from the back of his mouth. "I heard she likes roses."

The guard shrugged. "You're off to a good start, then." He signaled for the gate to be opened, and Mako hurriedly went through it. He pulled up to the front of the mansion, where a gigantic wooden door towered over him. However, the door practically flew off of its hinges when Sy burst out of her home, wearing a sparking green dress that shone brightly in the car's head beams. She bounced up and down as she swooped in and pounded loudly on the hood before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop.

"You're here! You're here!" she shouted, jumping considerably well for a teenage girl in high heels. Mako got out of his car and gave her a light hug, which she returned with significantly more strength. "Oh, you brought roses!"

"I want everything to be perfect," said Mako, carefully leaving out what the guard had told him moments before. "You look lovely, by the way."

"Thank you," Sy giggled and gave a small twirl. "You don't look half-bad yourself. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Oh, you'll be fine. They're nice," Sy insisted. "Just don't bring up my dad's business ventures; he's very private about those things. Also, my mom is kind of a big hugger, so be ready for her to pounce on you."

"Gotcha."

"And one last thing," Sy added, her face turning deadly serious. "Do not, under _any_ circumstances, let my mom be alone in a room with you. And if she starts asking you to take your clothes off, _run_."

Before Mako had a chance to ask any follow up questions, Sy grabbed onto his free hand, and yanked him into her home, slamming the door behind them with one foot. The entrance hall was just as lavish as the exterior, the floor cast in marble, a large staircase ascending stories above into darkness, and a large chandelier hanging overhead, covering the hall in a bright white glow. To his left was a grand living room, where glass vases and porcelain sculptures rested on fine wooden shelves. To his right was another, even more extravagant than the last. He did not have the time to admire it, however, as Sy quickly dragged him through the gorgeous halls and into a dining room fit for a king. At its center stood a table twenty feet long, carved from black stone, and sitting at its head was the man that made Mako's heart skip several beats. His face was round, his chin protruding outward and his cheeks puffy. His neatly combed, black hair was greying on the sides, and his beady green eyes latched onto the young man his daughter was leading excitedly. A thick moustache traced his thin upper lip, which was kept tight as Mako approached. When the man rose, Mako could see that his posture was strong despite having a heavy gut, and he towered so large that it seemed impossible that the short, quirky teen that led him could possibly be related.

"So," Jampa spoke, his voice lightning echoing through the chamber, "You're the man who's dating my daughter?"

Mako gulped. "I'm Mako. It's, uh, a pleasure to meet you, sir." He stuck out a hand nervously, which Jampa did not accept.

"You seem so… " Jampa said, trying to find the proper word. "Puny."

Sy rushed forward, lightly elbowing her father in the belly and talking through gritted teeth. "Dad, we _talked_ about this."

Jampa's features softened. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie." He took a deep breath, and shook Mako's hand more firmly than the detective had ever known. "My name is Jampa. Welcome to my home." He turned and shouted in his booming voice, "Serena! Come meet Sy's friend!"

"Give me a minute!" cried a voice from another room. "This roast isn't going to cook itself, you know!"

"That's my wife," Jampa sighed. "She insisted on doing all of the cooking tonight. Once that woman sets her mind on something, there's nothing that can stop her."

When Sy's mother finally burst into the room from an adjacent door, Mako's questions about his girlfriend's heritage were suddenly discarded. More accurately, he swore he was seeing double. Serena Kyoriku was the splitting image of Sy; her skin and hair were as white and snow, and she overcame her shorter stature with her perky deposition. In fact, if it wasn't for the marks of age that lined her face, Mako would have thought the two were twins. She scanned the room, and upon seeing the boy, a smile bloomed across her cheeks.

"Oh, you're finally here!" she screamed, nearly jumping over the table just to get at him sooner. She latched on firmly, which Mako was readily prepared for. What he was not prepared for was the strength of her grip, and the enthusiastic way in which she looked him over with her gray eyes. "Sy has told us so much about you."

"Mom. _Let go_," Sy groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Serena laughed nervously and released Mako from her grasp. "Hey, are those roses?"

"Uh, yes," said Mako, extending the flowers outward. "I heard you—"

"That's so thoughtful," Serena exclaimed, snatching the roses and taking a long whiff. "Such a nice young man. Take a seat, won't you? Dinner will be out momentarily."

Serena dashed back into the kitchen, leaving Mako dazed. The good news was that he made a decent first impression. Unfortunately, he had to maintain that for the rest of the night, something he was not sure he had the stamina to do. Sy hardly had the energy herself, as immediately upon her mother's departure, she slumped into the chair closest to her father, and slammed her head against the table.

"This is gonna be a long night."

Like Sy and her family, the meal was anything but restrained. The entire table was lined with enough food to feed an army. A slab of ribs the size of a desk rested at its center, slathered in gravy thick enough to be cut with a knife. A dozen different varieties of fish, filleted, grilled and displayed in order from lightest shade to darkest. There were roasted potatoes, a plethora of steamed vegetables, soups and chowders, and a healthy amount of sauces to match. Once they had all settled in their seats, Jampa wasted no time in giving himself a more-than-sizable portion. Mako kept his manners in check, though he did give a satisfactory moan upon taking a bite of the elephant salmon.

"This is fantastic," he exclaimed. Serena blushed and acted coy.

"It's really nothing. It's all about multitasking," she stated. "Also, we have a big kitchen. That helps quite a bit."

"I hear that you're a detective," Jampa inquired. "It must be getting difficult these days with all of the public scrutiny."

"Don't be so brash, dear," Serena intervened. "I'm sure Mako can handle a little bit of negative media attention. He _is_ a hero, after all."

"I wouldn't describe myself as a hero," Mako claimed. "I'm just trying to do my job the best that I can."

"Don't be so modest," said Sy. She leaned in and whispered to Mako, "Seriously, don't be modest. Play it up."

"Really, I don't think of myself like that," Mako insisted. "I'm just fortunate enough to be surrounded by good people and catch some lucky breaks. My brother's more of a hero than I am."

"But, his brother didn't blow up a giant killer robot," Sy added. "Who did? _This guy_. I know I'd be impressed if I blew up a giant killer robot."

"Technically, it wasn't a robot," Serena noted. "It had a pilot, which would make it a mech. Robots are defined by autonomy."

"But we don't have the technology for that yet, right?" asked Sy. "Then, I guess we'll them whatever we want."

"I think distinctions are important. Otherwise, once we do build them, everyone is going to be confused about the terminology." Serena giggled, suddenly amused. "Can you imagine robots walking around doing things that normal people do?"

"That's ridiculous," said Sy. "Like robot butlers."

"Robot dogs."

"Robot librarians."

"Robot teachers."

"Robot optometrists."

"Robot cops," suggested Jampa. "Maybe then they would actually be able to fix this mess of a city."

The room was filled with silence. Serena coughed and tried to change the subject.

"So, do you have any family in Republic City?"

"Uh, I have a brother," Mako said, keeping his eyes locked on his plate. "I have a pretty large extended family, but they all moved back to Ba Sing Se a while back."

"Back to Ba Sing Se? That implies they came from Ba Sing Se, which implies they're from the Earth Kingdom, which could mean… do you have any earthbenders in your family?"

"My brother's an earthbender, and technically a lavabender at that."

"Fascinating," Serena cooed. "I love stories of different cultures coming together. It reminds me of us, Jampa."

"Yes, true," claimed the man at the head of the table.

"How did you two meet, anyway?" Mako inquired. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it's hard to see you two fitting together so well."

"It was a quarter of a century ago, back when I was still young enough to be stupid and stupid enough to take risks," Jampa said fondly.

"I was up in the Northern Water Tribe for field research at the time," stated Serena. "I was fresh out of university with a doctorate under my belt and a penchant for heavy drinking."

"Wait," Mako interrupted. "You're a doctor?"

"Not important," Serena brushed him off hurriedly. "Anyway, I was in town buying supplies for an expedition out onto the tundra. I can't remember the details now, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with ultraviolet rays. Or maybe it had something to do with penguins. Regardless, I was buying supplies, when I see _this_ man get into a scuffle with local law enforcement."

"From what I gathered," explained Jampa, "there had been a recent string of robberies, and I bore some resemblance to the primary suspect."

"He was lankier back then," Serena stated, ignoring the frustrated sputtering of her husband. "I figured that he was innocent. The robberies had been taking place for over a month, and he had a deep tan that could only have been caused by spending time closer to the equator. Naturally, I rushed over and explained to the cops why he could not have been guilty."

"You rescued him from the police?" Mako asked, astonished.

"No. I was arrested," Jampa sighed. "They didn't believe her, and so I spent two nights in an icy prison cell. The only reason I was released was that the actual perpetrator was captured shortly afterwards. But when I got out of my cell, she was waiting for me."

"I wanted to make sure that justice was properly served. Also, the expedition was delayed on account of snowstorm, the bar was closed, and I was bored and had nothing better to do. But it all turned out for the best!"

"I can clearly see," Mako approved. "Although I didn't know you were a doctor. Give how good this food is, I would have sworn you were a professional chef."

"A woman can be talented at many different things," Serena said with a not-so-innocent smirk. "Maybe after dinner, I'll show you some of my _other_ talents."

Mako gulped nervously. Jampa seemed blissfully unaware of any deeper meaning, chewing his food normally. Sy merely rolled her eyes. Was this really such a common occurrence in her household?

For the remainder of the meal, Serena stayed on the offensive, bombarding the detective with questions. Where did he see himself in ten years? What was his favorite color? What was his opinion of having children? What kind of car did he drive? Was he a safe driver? If he was going to be driving her daughter, where was his license and ticket record so he could prove he was a safe driver? She peeled him back layer by layer, dissecting him like a cadaver, poking holes into his brain and draining out information. Jampa sat in silence, only commenting occasionally when he deemed it appropriate. He expressed his utter disdain through his gluttony, consuming three whole fish in the span of five minutes, chewing loudly all the while. Sy, having resigned herself to fate, stayed quiet, only communicating to Mako via slight taps with her foot. Aside from when the occasional lurid glance headed his way, Mako held up rather well under the pressure, though he did lose his appetite after the third question about his workout routine.

However, once the meal was finished, and servants crawled out of the woodwork to scoop up every loose plate and utensil, Mako felt the sudden urge to relieve himself.

"Excuse me, but do can you tell me where the restroom is?" he asked politely. Sy sprang to her feet.

"Come with me," she said hastily. "I'll show you." She began to pull on his arm once more (which, by this point, did not even remotely bother the man). Taking him away from the prying eyes of her parents, she groaned loudly. "They are _so_ much to handle sometimes."

"Well, I think your mom likes me," Mako suggested. "Generally speaking, I think it's going pretty well."

"She likes everybody. Dad hates everyone. They act like this all the time, which means that they don't really seem to have an opinion of you at all."

"What exactly were you hoping for?"

"I don't know," Sy confessed. "Complete indifference, maybe? I'd take anything other than this 'good cop, bad cop' shtick that they use whenever they meet any random person. At least then I would know that they think you're special."

After being dragged deeper into the complex, Mako found one of the many available bathrooms. Like every other room, it was larger than his first apartment, and he had plenty of time to admire that fact as Sy shoved him inside and slammed the door.

"Why are all the rooms in your house so big?"

"Have you _seen_ my dad?"

"Good point."

"Yeah, he's—wait a second…"

Sy went quiet, straining her ears.

"Hold on, I think he's calling me. I'll be right back."

He heard the sound of footsteps clamor away. After he finished his business, he stepped back into the hall, only to be caught off-guard by Serena, nervously standing in front of him.

"Mrs. Kyoriku? Why are—"

Sadly, Mako did not have time to react, as Sy's mother grabbed him by the arm, and forcefully tugged him through the halls.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he exclaimed.

"Shush it," she hissed, shooting through the halls like a rocket.

Within moments, Mako was thrust inside of a dark room and thrown onto a soft mattress. Serena slammed the door behind them, and flicked on the light. The spare bedroom was coated with calming shades of blue and violet. Apart from the comfortable bed, there was only a closet located near the door, in which Serena rummaged around for something dreadful.

"Um, why am I in here?" Mako asked, his heart starting to race.

"We don't have much time, so I'm going to need your full cooperation," Serena half-explained. "Now… take your shirt off."

Mako's heart skipped a beat.

"Look, ma'am," Mako stammered. "I don't know what your game is, b-but this is all sorts of _wrong_."

"Ha! Wrong!" Serena laughed. "That's what everyone always says. That's just because they're a bunch of unimaginative _slaves_ who refuse to push the boundaries of society. Shirt. Off."

"I-I-I-I…"

"You aren't making this any easier for me," Serena groaned. She pulled out a large leather case from the closet, and dumped it onto the bed. Its contents jostled loudly inside. "If you aren't going to man up, then I'll make you. You should be lucky I'm even using you at all. So, are you going to take your shirt off, or am I going to have to _rip _it off?"

Mako was speechless. He could only stare wide-eyed in horror, a horrible feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"I just… I don't think this is—"

"Oh, don't be such a coward. I hate cowards." She slowly unzipped her bag. Mako flinched, not knowing what hideous tools he would find inside. What he was completely unprepared for was to see the bag loaded with bandages, gels, sanitizers, tubes, and syringes. "Now," she said with a smirk, "let's take that blood sample."

"It's just that your daughter is in the house and… wait, blood sample?" Mako asked, confused.

"Obviously," Serena shrugged. "That's what the needle is for. I thought you figured that out already."

"Why did you… how come… but why did you need me to take my shirt off? Couldn't you have just told me to roll up my sleeves?"

"You're wearing a nice suit. I didn't want you to wrinkle it. Can you show me your damn arm already? We're wasting very valuable time here."

Mako probably should not have complied with the mad woman holding a syringe, but he was filled with such a sense of relief that he did not mind at all. Once his muscular arm was exposed, Serena began to disinfect the targeted area.

"So… why do you want my blood?" Mako questioned.

"Experiments."

"What kind of experiments?"

"Important kinds."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Jeez, you're a talky one, aren't you?" Serena chuckled. "Remember when I said I had a doctorate? Specifically, I'm a biologist. More specifically, I'm a geneticist."

"So, you want to study my blood for your research?"

"If I was boring, I might. You might feel a small pinch."

She jabbed the needle into Mako's vein. He watched as the blood steadily flowed out from his body and into the syringe.

"See, I believe that genetics hold vastly untapped potential for the human race. The scientific community still sees it as a relatively unknown and untrustworthy field of study, unfortunately. So, you probably won't be hearing much about it in the morning paper."

"I barely know about it at all."

"Sure you do. You just don't recognize it. It's _heredity_, Mako. Hair and eye color, height, size and shape, mutations and alterations, breaking down genetic code and assembling it into a new life form. Genetics is the study of what makes us, well, _us_. And I think it could potentially change the world."

"Like how?"

"Think about it. You are a firebender. Your brother is an earthbender. Why?"

"Because my dad was from the Earth Kingdom, and my mother was from the Fire Nation."

"Exactly! Do you see any babies in the Water Tribe born with the ability to firebend? Of course, you don't! Bending is usually specifically confined to one specific cultural subset. Traditional spiritual teachings would have you believe that bending is based on the flow of chi within the human body, or the balancing of one's chakras, but there are too many flaws with that kind of logical reasoning. If chi dictated the ability to bend, how do different types of bending differentiate themselves? Why can't some people bend even if they can master their chi, while others who can't master their chi can bend freely? Most importantly, why does bending seem to be locked within hereditary boundaries? You can't just wave your hands and say, 'Spirit World', and pretend that this doesn't matter! In the scientific community, if there are problems with a theory, we have to find a better one. For the past twenty years, I've been working on a theory of my own." She removed the needle from his arm, and quickly bandaged his wound.

"See, organisms undergo things called genetic mutations. In order to adapt to the conditions around them, they change on a cellular level so that they can be more prepared to survive their natural habitat. All living things do this; it's why some animals have thicker fur in colder temperatures and others change their skin color to camouflage. These superior traits are then passed down from generation to generation, so that the strongest and fittest species survive. Humans do this to, but I believe that it is highly possible that our mutations formed differently than any other."

"You think it manifested as bending?"

"I call it the 'Kyoriku Genetic Theory of the Bending Arts," Serena stated proudly. "I think that the ability to control the elements itself was a genetic mutation that started thousands of years ago. More than that, I think it was caused unnaturally due to humans close relationships to beings of the Spirit World. It makes enough sense; one would think that prolonged exposure to radiation from another world would cause sporadic changes to the genetic makeup of a person. My theory states that every single person has the genetic potential to bend every element, but most of them are locked and unusable. It would explain why bending seems to be passed down from person to person, because the parents who have already been affected by this mutation would pass it onto their children. It also explains why the Avatar—someone who is constantly being exposed to a powerful spirit and the energy that they emit—is able to bend all of the elements. The spirit triggers the mutation in her genes, and suddenly… _boom!_ You've got yourself a bender."

Mako awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, that's quite a theory."

"I know, right?"

"But I do have to ask… what does this have to do with my blood again?"

"Oh sorry, forgot about that part," said the raving scientist. "See, I came up with my theory many years ago, but I never really had the ability to prove it. It challenged a lot of conventional wisdom about how we perceive the world, and it also faced one or two problems of its own. Primarily, I couldn't prove that bending was caused by prolonged or intense exposure to spirits, since no one had ever really been in and out of the Spirit World at that time, and those who did only had relatively short exposure. The second problem was that if bending could be passed down genetically, then hypothetically, if people of two different cultures had a child, they could potentially be born with the ability to bend one or more elements… and no such person has ever existed. I eventually created a solution to that problem: the two different mutations would cause too much strain on the body, and cause the subject to die shortly after birth. The Avatar can handle the strain because the pressure is maintained by the spirit existing within her, but for everyone else, it would be too much. Since we can't tell if a person can bend an element until they—you know—_bend_ _it_, we would simply say that the cause of death was something else, and move on. Naturally, the only way to test that would be to run genetic tests on every single deceased child of a multicultural family and… you can see why I had a bit of a quandary. Luckily, I think I recently stumbled upon some evidence that proved me right."

"Blood sample."

"Sorry, sorry! I'm getting to it. Do you remember what happened seven years ago?"

Mako nodded. How could he forget? It was one of the most important events in world history. "You mean the revival of the airbenders?"

"Precisely that. And remember what caused it?"

"The energy released from Harmonic Convergence," Mako stated, still skeptical. "I get your point: you think that energy triggered mutation in people who possessed airbending genes."

"If they were exposed to enough of it," Serena clarified. "For most, the gene was too dormant for a widespread burst to truly activate it."

"But if that was the case, then by your own logic, people who were already benders should have also been able to airbend, at least before they died. But that didn't happen."

"Except that it did," Serena stated, silencing Mako. "In the month that followed Harmonic Convergence, twenty-three hundred, sixty-two deaths with unknown causes were reported globally. Each and every single one of them was a firebender, earthbender, or waterbender. Their systems simply shut down, even if they were perfectly healthy the day before. It went completely unreported. A hundred thousand people die every single day, so why would anyone care if a few more died over the course of a month, especially if the airbender revival was taking up so much of the public's attention? But for me, it was the validation that my theory was right. Not only did it prove that the ability to bend was genetic in concept, but also—and this is where your blood comes in, by the way—it also proved that bending can be _triggered_."

She held up the full syringe to her grey eye, examining the blood closely. "If I can deconstruct your blood down to its most fundamental levels, it's possible I can selectively target and study the genes that make you a firebender. And if I can do that, then maybe I can find out what it would take to _manually_ activate those genes. Think about the possibilities in that. Provided I can stabilize it, we could change the way we use bending on a global scale! You could sell firebending to someone in the Water Tribe, remove it in felons as punishment for breaking the law. Hell, you could even create entire artificial _Avatars_. My work is so close that I can taste it. Nothing will ever be the same again! I'll—"

The door shot open with a bang, startling the two. Sy stood in the doorway, her teeth grinding together and fury burning in her normally youthful eyes.

"I cannot believe you!" she screamed.

"Oh, honey," Serena laughed nervously, hiding the syringe behind her back. "This is _definitely_ not what it looks like."

"Really, mom? My boyfriend!? You couldn't resist it for just one freaking night?" Sy yelled, stomping her foot.

"Sweetie, you know how important this is to me."

"More important than not acting like a freak in front of the one person I'm trying to impress?"

"Hey, I'm not a freak," Serena pouted.

"You're taking blood samples from him!" Sy cried. "What kind of normal person _does_ that? Oh, that's right… _nobody_!"

"I should probably put my shirt back on," Mako said uncomfortably.

"Don't even bother," Sy said bitterly. However, she quickly mumbled, "Seriously, leave it off; you look great."

"I think you are overreacting," said Serena. "My work is for the good of humankind. I have to keep going with my research."

"Well, if that's the case, then I don't want any _part_ of your work! And he won't either."

For what had to be the thousandth time that night, Sy grabbed Mako by the arm, and dragged him away.

"Sy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Serena demanded to know. Sy shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm being a rebellious teen. Come on, Mako. You're driving me back to your place."

Mako did not have a chance to comply. It had been a long evening, and by this point, he was just going with the flow. Sy dragged him away the annoyed screams of her mother, past the confused glares of her father, who was surely perplexed as to why his daughter's date was missing half of his clothing, and past the even more confused security guards out front. He supposed that the red roses weren't good enough, or perhaps they were far too good. His mind was still trying to rationalize whatever crackpot theory Serena had attempted to preach to him. He was very tired, and wanted to go home. Sy was very frustrated, and she wanted to go as far away from home as possible. Everyone else was very confused, and they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

All in all, it was a very interesting way to meet Sy's family.

* * *

_Asami stumbled into the car, half-blind and woozy. Zhu Li forced her out of the driver's seat. She said that Asami was in no condition to drive, but the Sato heiress did not care. She just wanted to be as far away from that place as humanly possible. _

_Varrick said they he never liked the guy anyway. Either he did not understand her pain, or he did not care. Zhu Li's hand fumbled as she hurried to start the engine. They were going across the entire continent. They needed fuel. They would have to put that problem off._

_Blood oozed out of the gash in Asami's arm. She only felt its warmth. Everything else was too numb._

_She nearly passed out as they drive away from the airship. Zhu Li shook her awake. She panicked, screamed for Asami not to go under, or else she wouldn't wake up. Asami wanted to dream. She wanted to dream so badly._

_It was all a lie. The promises, the plans, the friendship. It was all a fabrication to play with her trust. Her throat was raw from shouting. She wanted to dream. She wanted to go home._

_Asami needed to get away from everything. Away from Shang. Away from the airship. Away from the lies. With a whisper, she told Zhu Li to never stop driving. Her friend only complied because of the guilt._

_Asami was headed back to Republic City. After what had just happened, she never wanted to leave again._


	26. A Method to the Madness

**Note: Wow, two chapters in one month? That's more like it. On a more serious matter: as we approach the end of the story, we would like to warn readers that things are going to get much darker from here on out. How dark? Well, consider this chapter a _very _small taste of how much darker we might be going. If you only started reading this as a Korrasami fluff piece for some reason, we are so sorry. This is your warning now before things get really bad, so read at your own discretion. This is also probably the last of these notes you'll be seeing until identity of the Hanzi Killer is revealed. Make of that what you will. Hopefully, we'll be done with the story by summer's end, so enjoy these final few chapters, and thank you all so much for your support.**

* * *

Korra couldn't believe she was doing it.

She never wanted it, and even as she stood on the rooftop, scanning the streets below, she detested herself for all of her actions. Every part of her knew that she was doing something very, unquestionably wrong, yet she could not turn away. She was backed into a corner. Lin refused to help. Her friends were being picked off one-by-one. If the law did not cooperate, then she would sim,y have to break it.

"Only this once," Korra said under her breath. She repeated the words once every few seconds, partly to calm her nerves and partly to justify her crimes. Vigilantism was not something that she wanted to be regularly associated with. It was uncomfortable being crouched on a rooftop, dressed in her darkest clothes, a scarf wrapped around her face to conceal her identity, waiting for her unlucky victim to pass by so that she could pounce. Darkness did not suit the Avatar.

But it was only this once. So it was fine. Of course it was fine.

It wasn't long after midnight that she spotted her target, illuminated by the faint glow of the spirit portal. His large beard and tattoos made him easy to recognize as the man who spoke to Illu several nights prior. She did not know anything about him, not even his name. Did he have a family? Friends, perhaps? People that would care if he got hurt?

Korra kicked the thoughts out of her heads. It was irrelevant. If she was going to get answers, she would have to go through him. Hopefully, he would be accommodating. If he wasn't—well, Korra hoped he would be accommodating.

She waited for him to pass underneath the building. He kept his eyes glued to the sidewalk, moving with a shuffle in every step. There was not the slightest indication of caution as he walked, as if he was so used to Republic City nightlife that nothing could possibly startle him. Korra crawled closer to the ledge, her heart beating in her ears. She carefully rose to her feet, making sure not to be noticed, and then, just as he walked by, she leapt off. Keeping her hands outstretched, she slowly bent the air around her to ease her descent to the earth, where she landed silently. The man did not notice her as she snuck up behind him, and by the time he suspected something was strange, she had already grabbed him by the back of his collar, and dragged him into the nearby alley.

"Let go of me!" he screamed as he was shoved into a stone wall. Korra grabbed him by his shirt, and tugged shook him violently.

"Shut up," she ordered. "You're going to give me what I want, and if you do, I won't make this any worse for you."

"What do you want?" he asked, more irritated than frightened. "I don't have any money on me, if that's what you're looking for. I'm not that stupid."

"I don't want your money," Korra stated. "I want you to tell me everything you know about Illu Satori."

"Never heard of her."

Korra slammed her fist against the wall next to the man's head, cracking the stone with ease. "Don't lie to me! Illu Satori. Start talking."

"I don't have any idea who that is," the man said calmly. "I think you have the wrong man."

Korra punched the wall again, her fist passing straight through the damaged rock like it was glass. "Next time, it's going to be your head! Talk!"

"Is that really the best you can come up with?" the man said nonchalantly. "Newsflash, kid: breaking the wall with earthbending has been done to death. You're not scaring anybody."

Korra grunted and shoved his face against back against the wall, grinding it on the cold surface. With her fingers clenched over her nose, she growled, "Do you think I'm playing around?"

"Let me guess: You've never interrogated someone before, have you?" he said with a devilish smirk. Korra applied more pressure to his head, but he did not budge. "I can see it in your eyes. You're not cut out for this, and you know it. I'll give you props for trying, though. The getup isn't bad, and you actually managed to sneak up on me. You went all out, but nothing you can do will ever scare me. I've been roaming these streets for so long that I can't get scared anymore."

He lifted up his right leg, and slammed it repeatedly against the ground. Instead of the typical thud accompanied with flesh hitting concrete, there was a loud clang of metal.

"That's a gift from one of my old bosses, a guy who liked to call himself 'Jackdaw' for some reason," he said. "He said that the only way to make sure nobody would break me would be to make sure I was already broken. So, unless you plan on chopping off my other leg, I suggest you scram and let me get back to my life."

"Just tell me where I can find her," Korra demanded, though it came out as more of a plea than anything else.

"Illu's a good woman. She has a good son. I'm not saying shit."

Korra released him and turned away to recompose herself. Even as he lied in the alleyway, he demonstrated his superiority over her. He was right. What was she doing? She wasn't a vigilante. She wasn't a criminal. Hell, she was still wearing her engagement ring underneath her black gloves. What exactly did she think she would accomplish?

But then, she heard the man start to snicker.

"Yeah, run off, kid. Maybe next time, you won't be such a _coward_."

Korra let that word sink in. She froze, her mind focused solely on that single, six-letter word. Her racing heart slowed, her fists unclenched, and every single ounce of self-doubted filtered through her body and out. She stood silent in contemplation, and when it finally clicked, it felt as though a seal inside of her soul had been broken open.

And then, she began to laugh. A lopsided, disturbed cackle emitted from her lips; a sound so deranged and unnatural that she did not know she was capable of making it. It gradually rose in volume and intensity, until she doubled over, holding herself up on the opposite wall of the alley. Her throat ached and tears welled in her eyes, yet she could not stop laughing.

"That… that is _adorable_," she said with a wheeze as she started to regain control of her own body.

"That you're a coward?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, not that," Korra said wickedly. She turned back around, and the smile that lined his face vanished instantly. In the blue eyes that previously held fear and unease, there was now nothing except pure, unmistakable madness. "You still think I'm an _earthbender_."

With a flick of her wrist, the man was violently thrown down the alley with a strong gust of wind. He tumbled for several yards, scraping his face against the ground and tearing off layers of skin on the concrete. Korra moved towards him slowly as he struggled to regain his footing. Every time he started to regain his balance, she would knock him down again. Towering over him, she stomped on his ankle; hard enough to keep him down yet keep his bones intact.

"Do you know what I really can't stand about people like you?" she taunted cruelly. "The way you act like you _own_ everything. The way you act like nothing can touch you."

"Get away from me," he choked out, his face scratched and covered with blood. Korra took another step forward, and grabbed onto his hands, intertwining their fingers. Even through her gloves, she felt copious amounts of sweat.

"What's wrong? Never been touched by a lady before?" Korra teased. "Let me help you with that." In her right hand, she started a small fire, slowly burning his flesh. In the other, she froze his sweat solid, covering his skin with a thin layer of brutal, cold ice. His face contorted with agony. Korra merely laughed at him, pressing her knee against his ribcage and throwing her full bodyweight into it. Once settled, she smashed their heads together, taking pure, sadistic glee as she watched the blood flow down his face. "Isn't this fun? Look at how much fucking _fun_ we're having?"

"You crazy bitch," he swore. "You won't be smiling when I—" Suddenly, his eyes went wide, and he stammered madly, "W-wait a m-minute… you're the…"

"Surprise!" Korra shouted, shaking the scarf off of her face like a rabid dog. "Don't worry, sir! The Avatar is here to save the day!"

"You're not… getting me…"

"To talk?" Korra asked. "Oh, it _far_ too late for talk. You've already helped me so much." She pressed their foreheads together, so that she could guarantee she never broke eye contact. "See, for the longest time, I've had a problem with Republic City. Ever since Kuvira got locked up, I've felt… well, _empty_, I suppose. It felt like a part of my soul was missing. I spent years trying to fill that emptiness with everything I could think of. And when I say everything, I mean _everything_. But no matter what I did, no matter how many friends I had or how many hobbies I took up, I never felt whole."

Korra grinned, her voice an unnatural cocktail of malice and sensuality. "But recently, I found something that made me feel complete again: taking poor, desolate creatures like you, and making them suffer for their crimes. I don't know what it is, but there is something so soothing about methodically draining the blood from a man's body, or cutting a prostitute into itty-bitty pieces…" She paused, taking a nice, deep breath to savor the memory. "…or even blowing up the Chief of Police in front of the press."

"You're full of shit."

"Don't believe me? Who else could have done it? I'm friends with everyone on the police force, and all it takes is a few false leads to lure them away while I carefully pick who to kill next. As long as I keep up appearances for the cameras, no one would ever suspect a thing."

The man struggled more vigorously, waggling around like startled cattle. Korra placed a single index finger to his lips, shushing him as if he were a child.

"Now, I _was_ planning on torturing Illu tonight," Korra said with a shrug. "She's been rather rude to me lately, and that's something I don't take too kindly. But, since you were so helpful earlier, I think I should just spend the night with you. Hopefully, I'll have plenty of fun with your body. The only question now is where I should start."

"That won't be necessary," he sputtered. "You don't want to kill me. You don't even know me. Illu's the troublemaker. She always has been. If she dies, it will be better for everyone."

"Then tell me where she is," Korra commanded, tracing a light pattern up his arm.

"She lives in an apartment complex on the corner of Qi and Hodon Street. It's the dark blue building with the white roof and trimmings. She lives on the third floor, in Room 327. There's an alarm system that triggers if anyone tries to enter the building past midnight, so you'll have to find an open window and make your way in. Just please, leave me alone."

"I'm not done with you, yet," she said coldly. "I know there's more you aren't telling me about her. If you really want to keep that other leg, you better spit it out."

"I don't know what you want me to say," he cried. "She was a friend of mine from way back in the day, but she left a life of crime several years ago. I tried getting her to help out with a project, but she didn't want any part of it. She said that she reformed. But even still, she never stopped hating you. Now I see why."

"Me? Why does she hate me?"

"Because she finally found a place to belong, and you destroyed it," he admitted. "She was struggling hard to support her son, when he found her and gave her a position at the top. She rallied around him like he was a king. She was one of his top advisors, but when you took him down, she was left with nothing."

"Who are you talking about?" Korra asked, increasing the pressure on his ribcage. He screamed, and through his cries of agony, a name slipped through his lips. Abruptly, Korra's smile vanished. The façade that she had brilliantly put on disappeared at once, and though her shocked expression did not fully convey it, she found herself back in the body of a scared girl, facing a monster for the very first time.

"Amon," said the man. "She was in love in Amon."

Korra backed away in a daze, releasing her hold on the thug. She could not finish a sentence nor even formulate a single word. The man sobbed on his back, wallowing in his own fear. A minute passed before Korra was able to ease her mind and think rationally. If Illu had been in love with Amon, then it must have meant that she was in love with his ideologies. Korra knew better than anyone what someone warped by that mindset was willing to do to people they saw as unworthy in life. She turned away from the alley—leaving the battered criminal behind—and took off sprinting down the sidewalk.

Her plan worked better than she could have hoped, but that did not stop the pit in her stomach to stop growing. Korra never wanted to resort to hurting the man. She thought she was going to vomit during every painful second of it, and she doubted that she would get any sleep for many nights, and her guilt would never subside. However, what mattered was that she had an address, and she had a motivation. If all went well, the reign of the Hanzi Killer would soon come to an end, and Masaki would be saved. The only thing left to do was to confront the Equalist that took him.


	27. Standoff

**Note: We're back! Happy summer! Getting close to the end! Read and review! You get the picture!**

* * *

Unfortunately, winter was steadily approaching Republic City, and though its location allowed it to maintain a relatively constant temperature, there was enough a breeze that the residents of the desired apartment building opted to shut their windows for the night. Without a place to start, Korra would have to get lucky to find Illu's home from the outside. Korra scaled the wall of the complex without much difficulty. A simple gust of air aimed at her feet directed her skyward, and she carefully guided her fall onto the windowsill of a third-floor apartment, quiet as the night. Her form blended with the shadows, rendering her unseen. She peered in through the curtains, but saw only darkness inside. It stood to reason that most of the tenants would be fast asleep, and fortunately for Korra, it seemed that was the case. Conscientiously, she planted her feet firmly against the wall, and gave a sharp tug upwards. It did not budge.

Her brow furrowed. However, she did not panic. She placed one hand upon the glass, and concentrated deeply. She forced her energy onto the glass, feeling it bend and stretch effortlessly beneath her palm. With a simple push, it cracked cleanly in two, and folded inwards like paper. With a smirk, she placed her hands above the frame, kicked off, and swung inside, rolling to soften her impact.

Korra scanned her environment. A small kitchen was to her right, and a sofa was nearby. The main room was cramped, only a couple of meters wide, and barely large enough to fit a family. To her left were three doors. The one furthest to the left was cracked slightly ajar, and within, Korra could make out the bodies of two young adults, snuggled together in the chilled night. She sighed. She hadn't expected to get the apartment right on her first try, but it would have made things easier. Keeping light on her feet, she moved towards the front door, taking a long moment to memorize the locking mechanism (a simple brass bolt) before exiting.

The hallway was rundown, with old, floral wallpaper peeling off in strips and a pungent odor that permeated the creaky floorboards. Sharp, right angles were both behind and in front of her. The entire building was structured like a ring, with four apartments along each wall. All were odd numbered; Korra happened to tiptoe out of Room 313. She hugged the inner wall where the ground was most stable, and shimmied her way around the structure. The hallway remained dimly lit, but lit nonetheless. If someone stumbled into the hall, she would easily be caught. She doubted that the walls were very thick either, and so one wrong step would ensure her discovery.

After a few tense minutes, she made it to Room 327. Placing an ear to the door, she listened for anything of use. Yet, there was only silence within; not a footstep or a single cry for help. She found the bolt on the other side of the door, and with a flick of her wrist, the lock released with a click. She slid inside carefully, locking the door behind her.

Illu Satori put effort into her home. In the center of the tiny room was a round, wooden table, upon which a half-empty cup of tea rested. The walls had recently been repainted, and the room lacked the stench of the rest of the building. Admittedly, it was nicer than Korra's own home, though the Avatar did not focus on that fact. Instead, she focused on her work. She knew that Masaki was being held somewhere. She simply had to find him.

Korra creeped towards the furthest door, and checked inside. As she suspected, Illu slept on her queen-sized bed, her dark hair in tangles, and her blanket strewn over her body loosely. The room was featureless aside from an open closet near the doorway, which was empty aside from a paltry selection of clothing. Moving on, Korra opened the middle door. Inside, she found a narrow bathroom. With nothing more to see, Korra shut the door.

As Korra passed in front of the last door, she took a deep breath. She did not know what she expected to find inside. Human remains? Weapons? Discarded Equalist plans for attack? She pushed her worries aside, and opened the door. What Korra found instead was another bedroom. The bed was rather miniscule, not fit to hold a regular-sized person. Dozens of toys littered the floor, and hand-made drawings adored the wall, featuring rough sketches of a boy and a woman. There was a crumpled school uniform thrown next to the wall, and more toys buried within the closet. As Korra looked around, she recognized that the room belonged to Illu's son, Lee. However, the young boy was not sleeping in his bed. In fact, she hadn't seen him anywhere in the apartment, and despite checking every room, Masaki, or any of the other missing victims for that matter, were nowhere to be found.

And then, as Korra realized this, she heard footsteps running up behind her.

Korra dove out of the way, narrowly dodging the broom that sailed over her head. She could barely catch her breath before she was attacked again, rolling away from harm. Illu towered above her, seething with fury in her flannel pajamas. She snarled and swung wildly, smashing the broom against the bedroom wall.

"Get out of my house!" she screamed, staying on the offensive. Korra weaved left and right, evading every attack in a panic.

"Wait, you don't understand," Korra said quickly.

"Get! _Out_!" Illu shouted furiously. "You're not going to take me, too!"

Illu raised the broom over her head, and swung down hard. However, Korra was quick to counter. She sidestepped the attack, grabbed the broom by its hilt, and yanked it out of Illu's hands, sending the teacher stumbling past her and onto the bed. Illu grunted and rolled off, grabbing any nearby toy she could find. She pelted Korra with a desperate onslaught of plastic, growling all the while.

"Stay back! Stay away from me!"

Korra swatted the toys away as they came, trying to get in a word. "Illu, you need to… please, it's… if you could…"

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" Illu pleaded, refusing to let up. Korra couldn't take it anymore. She swiped her hand, and a gust of air slammed Illu into the wall long enough for Korra to reach up to her face, and pull down her mask.

"It's me," Korra said. "It's Korra."

"Korra?" Illu said, taking a moment to recognize the young woman in front of her. When she finally focused on the soft blue eyes of the Avatar, her features softened. But then, a sneer spread across her face, and with a monstrous yell, she charged forward and tackled Korra out of the room, taking the Water Tribe warrior by surprise. Korra hit the ground with the thud, and the air rushed out of her lungs. Illu immediately started raining punches down on her foe.

"This is all _your_ fault!" said Illu, tears falling freely from her eyes. "If it wasn't for you—"

"Calm down! I'm not trying to hurt you," Korra said earnestly, doing her best to block the incoming punches.

"You already hurt me!" Illu cried. "All you ever do is hurt people!"

Korra kicked the teacher away and scrambled to her feet. Illu regained her composure and resumed her attack, jabbing and striking as efficiently as any Equalist Korra had fought before. Illu targeted her weak points. However, Korra was prepared. When one of Illu's hands got too close, Korra leapt forward and ducked beneath Illu's arm. She pressed upwards, causing Illu's momentum to send her sailing up and over Korra's head, and into the wooden table, shattering it into pieces.

Korra raised her fists, ready for another set of attacks. Yet, Illu did not rise to her feet. Only when Korra lowered her defenses did she notice the heavy sobs coming from the defeated woman.

"You… you really can't just leave me alone, can you?" said Illu, curling into a ball. Korra approached her with caution. "Every time something bad happens, you're always there."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted. "You need to slow down and—"

"There's no _time_ to slow down. I can't… I don't know what to do."

"Illu, you're going to have to tell me what happened. I don't know what it is that you think I did, but I haven't done anything."

"The note said that… it said…"

Sobs overtook her. She pointed to the kitchen with a shaky hand. On the countertop was a small, crumpled note that Korra previously did not notice. A pit grew in her stomach. She grabbed the wad of paper, unfolding it slowly. Four rows of simple characters lined the page in scribbled brushstrokes, barely legible. As she read, the worry gradually descended into despair.

_Have your son. Don't call the police. Didn't want this. Avatar gave no choice._

Korra ripped up the note, tearing it thoroughly. Illu sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I couldn't… couldn't even protect Lee. What kind of… mother can't even protect her child?

"It's not your fault," Korra said with a sigh. "The Hanzi Killer exists because of me. I don't why, but he's hurting people to get to me. There was nothing you could do. You couldn't have known what was going to happen."

"Yes, I should have," sobbed Illu. "I had to run out last night, and I left him all lone with a maniac on the loose. I wasn't thinking. I just… and now he's gone and… I don't know what to do…my precious little Lee…"

"It's okay. It'll be okay," Korra said, placing a hand on Illu's shoulder. The Satori matriarch shrugged it off.

"How is it going to be okay? Lee is _gone_! If the police find out, they're going to kill him. I don't know where to look. I don't know who to trust. I can't do anything right. I can't—"

"Calm down," Korra said forcefully. "You're not alone. I can help fix this."

Illu scoffed. "There's nothing more you can do for me. You've done enough."

"Look," Korra explained, "I know about you're past. You're an Equalist."

Illu's eyes widened with shock. "How do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter _how_ I know," Korra stated. "My point is that I know you don't like me, and I know you don't trust me. But I have a responsibility to this city, and everyone that's a part of it. That includes you. The Hanzi Killer has made the past few weeks of my life a living hell, and I'm not going to rest until I find him and make him pay for it. It doesn't matter what you've done. I'm going to save your son, even if I have to die trying. I promise you."

Illu was speechless. She stared blankly at the Avatar before her, overcome with emotion. In one swift motion, she wrapped her arms around Korra's waste, and pulled her into an embrace.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely, crying into Korra's abdomen. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you_."

"It's okay," said Korra with surprise. "Everything is going to be okay. I swear I'll get him back."

"Please, you have to believe me; I didn't know what Amon was planning to do. I didn't know he was going to really hurt anybody. I left the Equalists as soon as I found out. If anybody finds out what I did, they'll take me away from here. I can't leave Lee alone."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. All I care about is getting your son home, safe and sound."

Illu hugged Korra for what felt like forever. Whatever bitterness and resentment she accumulated over the years faded away, disappearing into the darkness. The embrace was only broken when the sound of hurried footsteps came racing towards them from outside. Korra quickly escaped through the window, stopping momentarily to give Illu a trusting nod. By the time any worried neighbors entered the apartment, the Avatar was long gone.

* * *

Korra shot through the water easily. She glided along the surface towards Air Temple Island, longing for her room. She made landfall by a mound of smooth, black stones, and sprinted back to the temple, making sure to avoid all guards. Her body moved automatically, having gone through the process on so many occasions. Therefore, she had time to think over her plans. Sleep was out of the question. Not only was there no time for it, but every time she closed her eyes, visions of the pain she caused earlier in the night flooded back to the forefront of her mind. Instead, she decided to get a change of clothing—as the stench of blood stained her—and head back onto the streets. There were three children missing, and she had no idea how long they could hold out. She could not afford to take a single break until the Hanzi Killer was captured and his victims were safe.

Korra breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the temple. She was in the clear. She relaxed into a light jog as she navigated the temple, eventually coming to a stop outside of her bedroom. She pushed open the door, and then froze.

Lin Beifong stood at the foot of her bed, dressed in her police uniform, a sneer plastered on her stone-like face.

"Lin, what are you doing here?" Korra asked nervously.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Lin responded. "You never struck me as crazy before, Korra."

Korra stepped forward, closing the door behind her. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Lin snapped. "A man came into the station half an hour ago. He said that the Avatar attacked him in the middle of an alleyway. I saw the injuries myself. And now you come waltzing in here dressed like you just robbed a bank, covered in blood."

Korra sighed grudgingly. "You don't understand."

"I don't understand?" Lin yelled. "You assaulted an innocent man in direct violation of the law."

"He was hardly innocent."

"You don't get to decide who's innocent and who's not."

"Why not? You know me. You know I wouldn't do this if I thought it wasn't right."

"Was it right to torture a man?" Lin asked with disgust. "To grind his face into the pavement and tell him that you're going to kill him? Tell me: how do you see that as the right thing to do?"

"It was a necessary evil," Korra said shamefully. "I needed information on Illu Satori, and my intuition told me that he would get me what I needed."

"And how right _was_ your intuition, Korra?" Lin questioned. Korra paused. A shiver ran up her spine. She could feel the tension grow thicker with each passing second. "Well?"

"She was…" Korra stammered after a long moment. Finally, she admitted, "She was clean. Completely, one hundred percent _clean_." Lin closed her eyes, disgraced. Korra spoke quickly, "But that doesn't mean—"

"Shut up!" Lin said sternly, her commanding voice filling the room. "You have disobeyed me constantly, you've disrupted this case, you've broken the law, you've attacked innocent people, and what do you have to show for it? _Nothing_. You are out of line, and therefore, a danger to yourself and everyone else around you. You need to be reined in before anyone else gets hurt."

"The reason people are getting hurt is _because_ I've done nothing," Korra retorted. "The Hanzi Killer is after _me_. It doesn't matter what you do, because he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants. I'm not waiting around for you to waste my time with more procedural police bullshit. I'm going out there, and I'm going to finish this. Like I said before: If you have a problem with that, _arrest me_."

Korra turned around, and placed her hand on the door. Suddenly, Lin shot her wrist forward, and a wire launched out and clamped onto the Avatar's free wrist. Korra stared at her hand in shock. Her heart pounded in her ears louder than ever before.

"Fine," Lin said, calm and determined. "So be it."

"Lin, you do _not_ want to do this right now," Korra warned, clenching her hand into a fist.

"Avatar Korra, you are under arrest," Lin stated with authority. "Surrender now, or I'll make you surrender."

"You're already hurt," said Korra, backing away from the door. "Please… don't make me do this."

"Final warning. Come with me or else."

Korra did not want to fight. She desperately did not want to fight. But she made a promise, and she was intent on keeping it.

She took a deep breath, and a ball of fire erupted in her free hand. "I'm so sorry. I can't do that."

Korra grabbed the wire and pulled, tugging Lin towards her. The Police Chief swung at her head, but Korra ducked underneath, wrapped her arms around Lin's torso from behind, and threw her across the room. The Chief quickly rolled onto her feet, but Korra stayed to her wounded side, keeping her at bay with flaming jabs. On the defensive, Lin thought fast. She quickly retracted the cord still connected her former ally, pulling Korra in close before tackling her onto her bed. Slamming her face first into the mattress, Lin pulled Korra's arm taut behind her back, and used her knees to pin the rest of her limbs in place.

"Stop struggling," Lin grunted. "You're only making this worse for yourself."

"You know you can't keep this up forever!" Korra shouted in muffled tones.

"Don't have to," Lin said, struggling to keep Korra locked down. "I just have to hold out long enough for you to see reason."

"I'll show you reason!" Korra exclaimed. She exhaled sharply, creating a strong blast of wind that propelled both fighters off of the bed and onto the hard ground. Lin landed square on her wounded arm, and she let out a pained scream. Korra, however, recovered instantly, and bolted towards the door. Yet, she barely moved an inch, dragged back by the metal cord on her arm. She flicked the metal hook away, and reached for the door.

But, before she could reach it, it flew open by itself, and Jinora screeched into the room, panic-stricken.

"Korra, you need to come—"

She froze, taking in the bizarre situation and confused faces in front of her. "What's going on in here?"

"Jinora, get out of here," Korra begged. "This has nothing to do with you?"

"Why is Chief Beifong on the… never mind! You need to come quickly."

"Korra isn't going anywhere," Lin groaned, rising to her feet. "She belongs in police custody."

"We're kind of in the middle of something important here," Korra said uncomfortably. "Whatever it is can wait."

"Well, I might have no idea what you two are doing," Jinora said, crossing her arms complacently, "but Asami just burst in through the front door and collapsed in a pool of blood. So, yeah… you might want to check that out."


	28. Together

**Note: Four chapters left! A lot of you asked for the next chapter to be released soon, but then we got hit with writer's block, and so that plan got scrapped. but now we're back on board, and hopefully we can get one chapter done per week. Sorry for keeping you waiting! At least we're almost done, right? Anyway, read, review, enjoy, etc. Seriously though, sorry.**

* * *

Sy was impressed by the quality of Mako's bed. The police detective spoiled himself with his sleeping quarters. Not only was the mattress lusciously soft, but the pillows were thick and plump, making a perfect place to rest her head. It helped relieve her of the stress her parents caused. The only thing that would have given her more happiness would be if Mako had actually joined her.

Mako was a gentleman as always, which meant that he spent the night on the sofa. His insistence on the matter overwhelmed Sy, who tried her best to convince him otherwise. She didn't even ask that he sleep with her, merely asking that he stay beside her for warmth or a quick cuddle. Still, he was not deterred, which is why despite her comfortable night's sleep, she felt as though she was missing a certain amount of tenderness.

Maybe that was just her obsessive nineteen year-old mind acting up again. There was only one thing to cure such hyperactivity: coffee. Lots of coffee.

Sy crawled out of bed and stumbled into her dress that she left strewn about the floor. She felt the urge to bathe, but found the idea of using Mako's shower too surreal. So she powered through with her wrinkled dress and sticky skin as she slinked out of the bedroom. Outside, Mako slept awkwardly on the sofa. His legs dangled off the end, and his arms sprouted out of the thin blanket and onto the floor. He snored as he rested against the armrest, which was the most adorable thing Sy ever had the pleasure of witnessing. She tiptoed past him into the kitchen, where she rummaged through every cabinet and drawer in sight. Was the coffee in the pantry? No. Was it up above the fridge? No. Stuffed beneath the sink? Of course not.

"Dammit, Mako," Sy growled. She would not be denied her precious coffee. She refused. Quickly, she formulated a plan. It was really quite simple. She merely waltzed back into the bedroom, grabbed the biggest, fluffier pillow she could find, walked back into the living room, and proceeded to thwack Mako in the head with it repeatedly.

Mako grunted and tossed around on the sofa as Sy swung feverishly. "Sy, stop that. I'm trying to sleep."

"And I'm trying to get caffeinated," Sy said, keeping up her assault. "You're out, by the way."

"I don't buy coffee," said Mako. "No one except you ever drinks it."

"Well, you're going to buy something now. I'm suffering from withdrawal."

"Why can't you go out and get it?"

Sy threw her hands into the air. "Look at me, Mako! Do I look like I'm in the proper attire to go outside? If I step into the sunlight, my skin will literally catch on fire. Besides, you're supposed to be the gentleman here."

Mako groggily nodded and rose from the couch. He examined Sy with glazed eyes, and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"Do you want me to get you some clothes, too?" he asked.

"Probably." Sy shrugged. "I don't know how long I'm going to stay here, and I do not feel like wearing this dress every single day."

"Should I pick up clothes from your house?"

"No way," Sy said defiantly, taking a seat next to her boyfriend. "There's not a chance in hell I'm making you go back there, especially after my mom tried to use you as lab equipment."

"Yeah," said Mako, "though she did seem very passionate about her work."

"Her work is a bunch of nonsense! It's just a bunch of hack science and coincidences she strung together because she likes talking about herself. I'm pretty sure she would be a laughing stock in the world of geneticists if anyone else actually _became_ a geneticist. That and the fact that she keeps taking blood samples from strangers really make me regret not moving out sooner. She didn't hurt you, did she?"

"I've dealt with a lot worse. Once you've been inside a giant, self-destructing robot, everything else becomes a bit dull."

"I'll take your word for it," Sy moaned. She flopped onto Mako's lap, and gazed up at the tarnished ceiling. "I wish I had a normal family."

"Nobody has a normal family, Sy."

"Does your family talk about the mutation of the human genome due to Spirit World radiation? Or do they run a super competitive business and require hundreds of armed security forces to follow them everywhere they go? Didn't think so."

"Hey, be appreciative of what you have. Before you know it, they'll be gone, and you'll regret not spending more time with them."

"What are you? A public service announcement?"

"Just saying," Mako said softly, lifting Sy off of his lap so he could get dressed. He disappeared into the bedroom, and emerged five minutes later, looking as charming and sophisticated as he did the night before. Sy moaned with delight and batted her eyelashes.

"Meow."

"Very funny," Mako said with a smirk. "I'll be back in an hour. Please don't trash anything."

"Don't worry. I'll be a good girl. Now be a good boyfriend and go! I think the lack of caffeine is making me hallucinate."

"Good luck with that." Mako left with a chuckle. It wasn't a bad sofa, but she did not have any desire to sleep on it for any extended period of time. Sy flopped on his couch, terribly, utterly bored. All that she could do was listen to the radio and wait for him to return. The only problem was that she hated early morning news shows. They sapped the life-force out of her.

Sy was quickly dragged out of her boredom when the phone began to ring. Being the proper lady that she was, she answered it immediately.

"Mako's residence," she answered.

"Mako, are you there? It's Zhu Li. There's something you need to know," said a frantic voice from the other end.

"I'm sorry, he's not here right now," Sy said calmly. "Can I take a message?"

"Who is this?"

"I'm his… maid," Sy said nervously. She didn't know why she lied, but it was too late to back down.

"Fine. Whatever," Zhu Li grunted. "Look, can you just tell him that he should get over to the hospital. Asami went into emergency care last night and I couldn't get a hold of him."

"Gotcha. Bye."

Sy hung up the phone, and continued to relax on the couch. There was no point worrying about anything until Mako got home. So, she decided that she would wait until he came back with her coffee before she freaked out. That seemed like the grown-up thing to do.

* * *

Korra waited impatiently outside of the hospital room. Down the hall, the young rays of the morning sun filtered through a square window. The doctors had yet to speak with her, and the anxiety was driving her to madness. Still in her stained, dark clothing, she paced outside of the room, wondering what had happened to the woman she loved. Asami was unconscious when Korra found her precisely where Jinora claimed she was, lying face first in a pool of her own blood. Zhu Li and Varrick accompanied her to the hospital, but she couldn't get any information out of them. It was not due to a lack of effort; between Varrick's unintelligible babbling and Zhu Li's frenzied explanation, she could hardly understand a word the couple said, which only helped to panic her more so. Eventually, the pair passed out on a couch in the waiting room, leaving Korra without answers.

Lin was helping, either. She had done nothing for six hours except lean against a wall and glare at the floor, taking breaks only to use the restroom or get some water. She refused to look Korra in the eye, and the Avatar couldn't tell whether it was because she felt guilty or resented her. Under normal circumstances, she would assume that the Police Chief was remorseful. Under normal circumstances, however, Lin would not have tried to arrest her.

"Is Jinora still sleeping?" Korra asked. She was desperate to break the silence. "What the about the other kids? How are they holding up?"

Lin responded with a cough.

"You've been standing there for hours," Korra said bitterly, her voice dry and cracked. "Do you really hate me so much that you can't even talk to me?"

For the first time in hours, Lin met her gaze. "I don't hate you, Korra."

"You could've fooled me," spat the Avatar. "You tried to arrest me."

"And you almost killed a man."

"A criminal."

"A human being."

"So I could help catch someone worse," Korra said defensively. "I just wanted to help. That's all I wanted to do: _help _you. Spirits forbid I actually try to help you save lives."

"It's not that simple."

"Really? It's not that simple? How is me doing my job as _protector of the realm_ too complicated for you."

"It's just…" Lin paused, carefully considering her words. "It isn't all about you. It isn't even all about the Hanzi Killer, either. I'm doing what needs to be done for the good of—"

"Yeah, you keep saying that," snapped Korra. "You want people to believe that the police can handle it so they won't freak out. Every time we speak, I get the same lecture. But considering that everyone seems terrified already, I don't see who it is you're going to help by forcing me out of the picture."

Lin cast her gaze away and shifted awkwardly on her feet. To Korra, it was obvious: Lin was hiding something.

"What is it?" the Avatar asked. "You might as well come clean about it. I doubt you can make things much worse than they already are."

The Police Chief groaned. She was left without a choice. "When Zaheer poisoned you, how did it feel?"

Korra froze, taken aback by the mention of the anarchist who nearly ended her life. "I don't… what does that have to do with any of this?"

"Answer the damn question," Lin demanded. "How did it feel? And I don't mean, 'Oh, it hurt,' or anything like that. I mean, what did it feel like being isolated from the world for three years?"

Korra had contemplated on that question for a long time. The answer was clear. "I felt helpless. Worthless, even."

"Why?"

"Because it was my job to keep the world safe, and I couldn't. The entire purpose of my life is to protect the world. But when I couldn't walk, and I saw that the world managed to get by on its own, I felt like my life was meaningless. It was a dark time, and I don't like talking about it. Is that the answer you were looking for?"

"Pretty much."

"Then—if you know that—why are you trying so hard to keep me away?" Korra asked.

"Because I've been talking to President Raiko recently," Lin confessed. "And he wants me to step down as Police Chief."

Korra was stunned into silence. Lin merely shrugged and tapped her foot against the hard floor.

"What do you mean? He can't make you step down. You _can't_ step down," Korra stated matter-of-factly.

"I know he can't _make_ me do anything," Lin explained, a deep sadness permeating beneath her steady voice. "There's no law that requires me to listen to him. I _could_ stay in position as long as I want. But starting a few months ago, we've been having occasional chats over the phone. Most of them were pretty boring. He asked how my life was going, how I was running the force and things like that. Yet, sometimes during those conversations, he brought up the idea that I should retire early. He mentioned that I've 'been through a lot over the years' and 'probably deserved to take a break'. I just assumed that he was overly sentimental, and I just swatted it down every time he mentioned it.

"But last night, he called again. He told me that people he worked with were losing trust in the force, given all of the murders and… well, _this_." Lin motioned to her broken arm. "I tried telling him that everything was fine and we were making progress, but he was fed up. I had also taken a shot of something earlier and casually admitted that to him before he started lambasting me, which I'm sure didn't instill him with any confidence. At the end of the conversation, he brought up me stepping down, except that time, he didn't ask me to retire. He very specifically asked me to _resign_."

Korra, bumbling in her speech, shot forward, placing a gentle hand on Lin's shoulder. "I'm… I'm so sorry. I didn't know that was going on."

"There's no way that you would have known," Lin said comfortingly. "It was probably the worst insult I had ever received in my career. Ten minutes later, the man you attacked burst into the station, and I lost it. The Hanzi Killer case was the perfect chance to show that I was still capable of doing my job. Instead, I got a dozen pieces of shrapnel blown through me in front of every news outlet in the city, and there you were, running around like a vigilante and beating any criminal in sight. So, I tried to rein you in, and now we're here. Is that a good enough explanation for you?"

Korra did not have time to respond. The doctor exited the room with a sigh, and suddenly, Korra remembered why she was there in the first place. She pounced onto the doctor with desperation, and the string of questions immediately began to flow from her mouth.

"Is she okay? Did you stop the bleeding? Why did she collapse? What happened to her?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down," the doctor said, annoyed. It was the same youthful woman who had treated Korra's injuries after the bombing at the press conference, and over the weeks she had only grown more tired and frazzled in appearance.

"Sorry," Korra said hurriedly. "Can you please just tell me what's going on? Is she going to be alright?"

"Miss Sato will be fine," the doctor insisted. "We'll be able to release her in a few hours once you sign all the necessary paperwork."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Korra cried. The relief overwhelmed her, nearly sending her to her knees. She leaned against the wall to prevent herself from falling over. "Thank you so much. When I saw her in that pool of blood…"

"Yes, the bleeding wasn't much of a problem," stated the doctor. "There was a thick laceration on her right arm. We think it was caused by a knife or blade of some kind. It was nothing that our healers couldn't fix in a few minutes."

Korra brushed joyful tears out of her eyes. Of course, hearing that her fiancé was attacked with a knife was not something to celebrate, but the fact that she was worried over nothing filled her with happiness. "At least she's okay now."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that yet," the doctor said timidly.

"What do you mean?" Korra asked, confused. "You said the bleeding stopped."

"The bleeding isn't a problem, no. What _is_ a problem is the concussion."

"Concussion?" Korra stammered. "How does she have a concussion? _Why_ does she have a concussion?"

"I can't be one hundred percent sure on the matter, but Asami claims that she was kicked in the head."

"She was… what?" Korra could barely formulate words. What happened to Asami on that airship?

"It's pretty serious. She was hardly able to remember basic things for a while, like names or places. We've been keeping her hydrated for the past few hours though, and her head is slowly clearing up. She's back on her feet, but I'd advise that she stay away from any extraneous activity for at least a month. The last thing you want to do is stress that injury further."

"What do you count as an extraneous activity?" Lin suddenly chimed in.

"Driving, running, jumping, playing sports; anything that requires excessive motor skills. The best thing you can do is keep her well-rested and comfortable," claimed the doctor. "Personally, I'd take her out for a nice dinner. The woman looks like she needs it."

"Can I speak to her?" Korra asked. The doctor nodded, and stepped away from the door.

"She'll be happy to see you. She's done nothing but talk about you for hours."

Korra tried to shake off her nerves as she walked to the door. The doctor kindly reached forward, and turned the knob. The Avatar carefully stepped inside. The room was plain and white, perfectly matching the rest of the hospital. The only thing that was not plain was the woman who sat upright on the bed, green eyes focused on her. She wore a sleeveless white shirt and baggy sweatpants, both stained deep red with blood. Her unkempt, tattered hair fluttered across her pale face, her thin lips tightened into a grimace. A thick bandaged consumed her arm, which she scratched with her long, chipped fingernails. Their eyes locked, and it seemed as though all of time stood still, waiting for them to make a move. Korra studied her fiancé's form.

She was a mess. She was a disaster. She was perfect.

Korra pulled Asami into a tight hug, wrapping her muscular arms around her chest. Asami wasted no time in returning the favor. They sat there together, motionless, arms locked into place, savoring the familiar touch they had longed for since before the nightmare began. Asami's was warm and soft as always, and Korra sighed deeply into her thick, dark hair as an overwhelming calm washed over her.

"I've missed you so much," Korra said softly.

"Same here," Asami whispered, cracking a faint smile. "It's been hell without you."

"Well, I'm here now," Korra assured her, "and I am never going to let you go again."

"I can live with that," said Asami. The doctor slowly backpedaled out of the room.

"So, I'll give you two some privacy," she said uncomfortably. "I'll be around if you need me. Just give a call."

And then, it was just the two of them, alone for the first time in what felt like forever. Korra broke the embrace, and pressed their foreheads together so she could see Asami's face. Their fingers instinctively intertwined on her lap. Finally, Korra felt whole again.

"I am so glad you're okay," Korra said gently. "You had me worried back there."

"_You_ were worried?" Asami joked. "There were a few moments when I couldn't even remember your name. For a while, I thought they were going to tell me I had severe brain damage."

"No, your brain is perfect. It's perfect in every single way," Korra said slyly. "But you really forgot about me?"

"Of course not. How could I ever possibly forget Avatar Korra?"

"Even though, a few seconds ago—"

"It was for ten seconds," Asami insisted. "That's not amnesia. That's a brief lapse of memory at best."

"But you're better now, right?" Korra asked worriedly. Asami brushed a hand over Korra's cheek.

"Definitely." She smiled and kissed Korra on the nose, causing the Avatar to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Hey, cut it out," Korra laughed. "No extraneous activity."

"Oh, that's extraneous? What about this? Or this? Or this?" Asami peppered Korra's face with kisses, pressing her soft lips on her cheeks, forehead and lips. Korra playfully shoved her away.

"Seriously, stop messing around. You're hurt, remember?"

"Come on, Korra. Give me a break," Asami moaned. "I've been having a really bad week. Let me have a little bit of fun."

"Trust me, we'll have plenty of fun later," Korra giggled, brushing the hair out of Asami's face. Asami wasn't the only one who was having a bad week, after all. "Right now, I want to know how this happened to you."

Asami groaned. "It's not important."

"Yes, it is," Korra said forcefully. "You told the doctor that you were kicked in the head, and you have a knife wound on your arm. I don't see how that isn't important."

"Well," Asami explained, "a lot of it is very blurry. I can only really recall some slivers of what actually happened to me."

"Can you try to remember? Please?"

"Yeah," Asami nodded "I was with Shang, Varrick, and Zhu Li. We were flying south. Something went wrong… what was it? It might have been a problem with the airship's engines. For some reason, we had to make an emergency landing outside in a valley somewhere. And then we were fighting and… wait, no, that's not right…"

Asami strained to recover more information. Korra gently squeezed her hand.

"It's okay. Take your time."

"Ugh… something was wrong with the engine, and Shang asked me to fix it. I was working to find out what went wrong, and then—I think—that was when the ship came under attack. Pirates ambushed us. They wanted to steal our cargo, or at least, I thought they did. They were led by this crazy woman named… oh, what was her name? Bi-something. Bile? Bisa—Bison! That was it: Bison! She had an eyepatch. I don't really remember anything else. She had her crew surround me, and then I saw her move to kick me, and… then it kind of goes blank after that."

"That's it?" Korra asked, concerned. "You don't remember how you got the knife wound or how you managed to get back here?"

Asami shook her head. "Everything after that point is really hazy. I didn't even realize I was bleeding until Zhu Li tried to clean it."

"At least those two were looking out for you," said Korra. "What happened to Shang? Did Bison get him?"

"Shang?" Asami asked, confused. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she shot out of the bed like a rocket. "Shang! That son of a bitch! I can't believe he did that to me!"

"Did what?" Korra asked quickly.

"I remember that," Asami said with determination. "It's fuzzy, but I remember. Zhu Li and I were thrown into the cargo hold. Bison had Varrick taken up with her to the main bedroom. Zhu Li managed to break us out, and we went to rescue him and escape the ship in a Satomobile stored with the rest of the cargo. We fought our way through a dozen guys, or _she_ fought through them, technically."

"And then?"

"And then," Asami said bitterly, "he betrayed us."

* * *

_Zhu Li dropped another pirate with an elbow to the throat. Asami watched from her slumped position on the wall as something attempted to sneak up behind her. Its face was distorted and grey. Was it a friend? An enemy? Did it even matter? The blur moved swiftly, but Zhu Li took it down with a stiff knee._

_Zhu Li called to her, but her voice was muted and far away. When Asami did not respond, Zhu Li took her forcefully by the arm and dragged her away. Close up, Asami could see that her face was stricken with panic. She said something else, but Asami could only make out a few words. Varrick. Captain. Move. They shuffled together as Zhu Li tried to support her weight on her shoulders. Asami's feet refused to listen. They dragged behind her and stumbled every few steps. Asami asked where she was. Zhu Li mumbled something unintelligible. _

_How long had the world been trapped inside a haze? Asami could not fathom a guess. Time did not make any sense to her. One second she was lying on the grated floor and the room was spinning, and the next, Zhu Li was spinning into a roundhouse kick that drove a man to the floor. "Pirate," was something that came up often, but Asami knew of no context. The only object that grabbed her lackluster attention was the big, beautiful door that led to the captain's quarters. Zhu Li briefly let go of Asami to kick open the door, and Asami instantly collapsed, only barely catching herself with her hands._

"_Shit." Asami caught that word clearly. Zhu Li pulled her upright, and ran fingers across her temple. "You… doctor… stay… Asami?"_

"_Mm hmm." It was the best response Asami could give considering it felt as though someone was drilling her brain with a jackhammer. Zhu Li wrapped her arm around Asami's shoulder and mumbled. She kicked the door down with a grunt that cut through the fog of Asami's mind. They charged in, holding each other for support. More grey blobs were waiting for them. Screaming. Movement. It all happened so quickly. Before she knew it, Asami was taken away and shoved against the wall. A blob moved in close, and suddenly, Asami saw Shang's face right in front of her, clear and quizzical. _

_And then, he slapped her across the cheek, and the fog vanished, and her memories came rushing back._

_The captain's quarters were lavishly decorated. Shang spared no expense at designing his room to be a perfect reflection of his character. Every part of the room was a different color, from red bed sheets to violet carpets and green and yellow walls. The only consistent color was gold, which appeared frequently on his chairs, desks, and portraits of his twin families. A separate door led to his private bathroom; a door that a terrified Bison was backed against. Varrick was tied up on the bed, frantically yelling behind a piece of tape over his mouth. Blood was gushing down her arm, undoubtedly caused by one of the dozen pirates that attacked her, but compared to the pain in her head, it was hardly noticeable._

"_There, she looks much better," Shang declared._

"_She's concussed, you idiot!" cried Zhu Li. "Don't slap her!"_

"_What the… where am I?" Asami moaned. "What's going on? Why is—"_

"_Shhh, Asami," Shang interrupted. "There's no need to worry. Everything's fine."_

"_Baby, stop stalling and get rid of her already," Bison said timidly. The fearsome demeanor she wore mere hours prior had all but disappeared. In fact, as Asami's head cleared, she noticed that the eyepatch the pirate wore was also missing. The flesh that replaced it was ordinary._

"_Baby?" Zhu Li asked, confused. "Who are you?"_

"_Please, don't hurt me," Bison cried weakly, shrinking to the floor as Zhu Li approached. "I didn't want to hurt anybody. I promise."_

"_You kidnapped my husband, knocked me out, locked me in the cargo hold, and sent your hounds after me," Zhu li growled. "Do you expect me to let that go?"_

"_Come on, Zhu," Shang said calmly. "There's no need to get testy over this. Her name is Katarina. And I would really appreciate if you didn't destroy her face."_

"_Are you kidding me?" said Asami. "That woman kicked me in the head."_

"_Yes, but I told her to do that," Shang added, gently grabbing Asami by the shoulders._

"_What?" Asami yelled furiously, shoving Shang away. "What is going on here? Who is that woman?"_

"_Her name is Katarina," Shang repeated. "She's my wife."_

_Asami glared at the terrified pirate, who was curled into a ball on the floor. She was not in either of the family portraits Shang kept on his desk. "Her? That pirate is your wife?"_

"_I'm not a pirate!" Katarina yelped. "He just asked me to go along. I swear that I didn't mean to hurt you."_

"_Can you please stop talking?" Asami groaned. "I need to think."_

"_Shang was worried because the pirates didn't have a leader, and they didn't look convincing, so he called me to act as their leader," said Katarina._

"_Thanks, Kat. I appreciate that," Shang said discouragingly. The dull throbbing was starting to return, as Asami put the pieces together._

"_You sabotaged the engine," she stated. "You tried to have me killed."_

"_No no no," Shang said, shaking his head. "I never tried to kill you. That's unfair."_

"_Then why did you do this?" Asami asked. It was only then did she notice the plethora of blueprints lining the desk before her. She cautiously walked towards them, and studied. Even with the ever-present ache of the concussion, she could easily recognize the schematic, and it filled her with dread._

"_Asami? Are you okay?" Zhu Li asked while she untied her husband._

"_These are schematics to make a machine that uses Phosphorescent Particles," Asami said with terrified certainty. "Shang, do you have any idea what you're trying to make?"_

"_Of course, I know!" Shang declared. "Do you think I'm stupid? You build a device that can harness the power of the sun, and the most you can think to do with it is a parlor trick? Think bigger, Asami! Kuvira's spirit weapon is nothing compared to what we can do with this kind of power. People all over the world will be lining up to get their hands on it."_

"_You used me to make a profit," Asami barked. "I thought you were interested in being an inventor, not an arms dealer. What happened to dreaming about rockets?"_

"_That wasn't a lie," Shang said dismissively. "I do dream of rockets. They just happen to be sailing in different directions than yours."_

"_This isn't a rocket. It's a bomb powerful enough to destroy a city. Who do you think is going to want to buy a weapon like that?"_

"_People I trust to use it accordingly."_

"_We're in a time of peace!" Asami shouted, grabbing the schematic and tearing it to shreds. "There's nothing to fight. You're going to start a war."_

"_And what's the problem with that?" Shang shouted, frustrated. "War is how the world works. Do you honestly think that peace is going to last? Peace never lasts. Humans are nothing but violent, savage animals, and if they plan to wipe each other out, who am I to do anything but make the most of it? Don't hate the player; hate the game. And believe me: I am very close to winning. I'm a few days away from turning your little "bomb" into pure, concentrated, controllable energy. Once that's done, I'm gonna make more money than anyone else on the planet."_

"_Is that why you damaged the engines? You needed to stall for time before you were ready to show your buyers."_

"_Well, that," Shang said with a shrug, "and I needed to find some test subjects for the weapon. Blowing a few pirates away will do wonders for my image, plus I know that no one important will be need to be sacrificed for studies. A good businessman doesn't risk selling faulty products."_

_Shang dashed to his bed, and reached underneath, pulling out a small, black box. He opened it, and took out a metallic, vase-shaped object, shoddy and covered with wires. Asami instinctively backed away, but Shang held it in his palms as if it was made of pure gold._

"_Be careful. You're going to kill us!" she warned._

"_If I can't get it ready in time. That's why you're here: You're going to finish this for me. If you help me, I'll bail out Future Industries as promised, and we can all move on with our lives, wealthy and happy."_

"_You honestly think I'm going to help you make weapons?"_

"_If you want Future Industries to survive," Shang reasoned. "Come on, it's easy! Fix the machine, sell some weapons, make money, and live happily ever after with our wives. Or, end up in the dirt with the rest of your bankrupt little company. You wouldn't want your family's legacy to fall apart, would you?"_

_Asami clenched her fist. The decision was clear. "Sorry. I'd rather lose my business than my integrity."_

_Shang sighed. "You're really making this hard for me, Sato. How about this: we—"_

_Without warning, Asami reached out and punched Shang in the jaw. He fell backwards, collapsing into an unconscious heap on the floor. Katarina shrieked. The unfinished device rolled onto the floor, and Asami carefully scooped it up. She turned towards Katarina, who crossed her arms in front of her face for defense._

"_You," Asami said angrily. "You really deserve to… to…"_

_Suddenly, the haze returned with a fury, and Asami fell to her knees in shock. Her arms shook violently, and her ears became clouded with white noise. She held down her vomit, but the pain overwhelmed, and she fell on her face, eyes glazed over._

_Zhu Li hoisted her to her feet while Varrick shouted and grabbed the machine. She couldn't walk or speak. Her body trembled against her will. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and dream. That was when her memory failed her._

* * *

Asami lied down and stared at the ceiling, exhausted. Korra traced the back of Asami's hand with her thumb.

"Varrick and Zhu Li took the prototype to one of my vaults. Shang's out in the wild somewhere, probably hiding out with one of his families. All that time, I really thought he wanted to help me," Asami said, disheartened. "I can't believe I was so stupid."

"You're not stupid," said Korra. "There's no way you could have known what would happen."

"But I could've been more cautious," Asami lamented. "One kick. I've made it through so many fights unscathed, and I get taken out with one stupid kick to the head by someone who doesn't even know what they're doing. I'm better than that."

"Don't stress too much about it. So you made a mistake. You'll recover and learn. I mean, you're Asami Sato, the most talented woman on the planet. I doubt a few scrapes and bruises can do much to take away from that."

"Thanks, but I'm just feeling kind of sick of myself right now," Asami stated, turning toward her fiancé. "And I know I'm acting like a jerk right now. You've probably had it a lot worse than me these past few weeks."

"It's fine," Korra said, although her voice betrayed her honesty. "Really, I was more concerned about you than anything. As long as you're here and you're safe, I'm happy. You're more important to me than any psychopathic killer."

"Wow. Pulling out the psychopathic killer line? You really know how to make a girl feel special," Asami said with a smirk.

"I know some other ways to make you feel special."

"Don't do it."

"Don't do what? This?"

Korra tickled Asami's ribs, causing the older woman to squeal and kick her away.

"Knock it off," Asami commanded weakly, giddy with laughter. Korra flashed a devilish smile.

"Knock what off? I'm not doing anything," she snickered as her fingers danced over Asami's arms and legs. Asami playfully shoved her away, but was no match for the Avatar's superior strength and determination. She cracked under the pressure, descending into a mad fit of giggles.

"Please," Asami begged in-between laughs. "You have to stop. I'm ill."

"Well, I'm… chill," Korra retorted.

"What does that even mean? That's not a comeback!"

"You're not a comeback."

"Hey! Korra!"

The Avatar snapped to attention. Lin stood in the doorway, watching their childish games with a bizarre look of disgust and adoration. It was remarkable that in only the span of a few minutes, Korra completely forgot the massive trouble she was in with the law. It suddenly dawned on her that she would have to tell Asami, and her heart sank like a stone.

"I'll, uh, be right back," Korra said nervously. Asami stared at her, confused but understanding. She gave her one last playful kick off of the bed, and rolled over. Korra took a deep breath and followed Lin out of the room, shutting the door behind her. "So, how much of that did you see?"

"Enough to not want more of it," Lin said plainly.

"Look, about Raiko. I didn't know that you were going to lose your job. I would have been more cooperative if I knew what was at stake. But I couldn't sit back and do nothing."

"I know," Lin sighed. "And I should've realized that trying to hold you back was pointless. That's something I learned the hard way years ago. Still, I hope you understand that you can't keep running around like some masked avenger in the middle of the night."

"So, you still plan on arresting me?" Korra asked timidly.

"I could arrest you, though I think there's something much more useful you could do with your time," Lin stated, placing a hand on Korra's shoulder. "Asami needs you right now. For the next few weeks, you're going to stay by her side and take care of her. Don't worry about the Hanzi Killer. Don't worry about saving the world. Just be there for your wife, let us do our job and I'll wipe the slate clean. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah," Korra agreed, laughing to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Korra said, a big, goofy grin plastered on her face. "It's just… that's the first time anyone ever called her my wife before. It feels really, _really_ weird."

Lin cracked a smile. She turned to leave, before adding, "And also, follow the doc's advice and the girl out tonight. You both look like you need it."

Korra was elated. Excited to share the news, she rushed back into the hospital room to tell Asami of their new plans for the evening. Their night would be full of fun and thrills, and nothing in the entire world could stop them.

It would be the last normal evening they ever had.


	29. The Last Evening

Asami did was not sure where Korra got the idea to take her to a jazz club. Never at any point in their relationship did she state a particular love for jazz, and at no point did she recall Korra having any particular love for extravagant social gatherings. And yet, Korra suggested Won Ton's Dumpling Bowl, the grandest dining and dancing locale in the city, as the ideal location for their first date back together. Admittedly, anywhere would have been dissatisfactory, as Asami wanted to do little more than curl up in bed and nurse her blistering headache. But Korra insisted on spending time together, claiming it was "doctor's orders" that they spend quality time together.

"Yeah, but you don't like going out," Asami claimed as she adjusted her seat in the brightly lit dining hall. A quartet of saxophonists played on a stage elevated above a wooden dance floor, where a dozen well-dressed couples swung and grooved to the infectious melody. Their table was in the furthest corner from the noise, but the idle chatter of their neighbors stung Asami's ears.

"Well, I thought that the music might help you," Korra explained, swirling a tall glass of red wine in her hand. Her ocean blue gown shone was dazzling display that perfectly matched the hue of her eyes, and if it wasn't for her powerful arms and chopped hair, she would have looked like she belonged with any of the other beautiful socialites in the club.

"You know what else would help me? Being somewhere that's _quiet_," said Asami.

"After this, we'll go back to my place and spend some alone time together. But for now, can you at least smile? It cost a fortune to get in here."

Asami rolled her eyes, and politely did as she was told. "Sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I know this probably means a lot to you. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather."

"Why do you think _I'm_ paying for this?" Korra said with a smirk. She downed her wine and smacked her lips with satisfaction. Asami sipped from her glass of water with a straw. "So, what are you going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"The doctor said that you have to eat."

"She apparently also told you to take me to this jazz club, so I'm not sure what to trust."

"Come on; at least eat a salad, or some soup, or hell, even some bread. When was the last time you ate anything?"

Asami thought about carefully. "Two days. It's kind of hard to tell. I forced Zhu Li to drive several thousand kilometers in about a day and a half without rest, and before that, I was practically starved."

"But you're not hungry?"

"No."

"Yeah, I'm ordering you a steak."

There was little sense in arguing once Korra set her mind on something. Korra ordered for her, as well as extra water to make sure she stayed hydrated. Asami supposed that she did not have to actually eat anything, so in the end nothing was lost.

"Trust me, you'll feel much better once you have food in your stomach," Korra insisted. "This is your night, and I want it to be perfect."

"What about you?" Asami asked worriedly.

"What about me?" Korra responded, dumbfounded.

"You don't want to talk about what happened yesterday at all?"

"Yesterday?" Korra said, nervously scooting in her chair. "Nothing happened yesterday."

"I'm not dumb, Korra," Asami said, turning serious. "I appreciate everything you're doing to make me feel better, but that doesn't mean I'm going to turn a blind eye to you showing up to my hospital room dressed in all black and covered in blood."

Korra squirmed under Asami's judging gaze. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm worried about you," said Asami sternly. "The city isn't safe anymore. I want to know what's been going on so I can help."

"We don't need your help. It's in everybody's best interest if you don't get involved."

"It's not in _my_ best interest," Asami stated. "Korra, do you see that ring on your finger? That's the promise we made to not keep secrets from each other. Tell me what happened, or I'm walking out."

"It's… it's complicated."

"Then explain it to me," Asami said, crossing her arms. "We have all night."

Korra poured another glass of wine, and swallowed it quickly. She stared off into the distance, fixated on something Asami could not see. She struggled to find the words to describe the horrors she committed. When she finally found the right phrasing, she sighed and rested her elbows on the table, holding her hands in front of her mouth.

"Yesterday, I got in an argument with Lin," Korra said in hushed tones. "Ever since this Hanzi Killer nonsense started, she's been holding me back from investigating the case. It was all because… well, that's not really important. But I was getting really frustrated with her, and I decided that I would try to solve the case on my own. At the time, I thought I figured out who it might have been: some grade school teacher I had a few run-ins with. I couldn't prove it, but I just had this gut feeling, you know? I had this—I don't know—this _need_ to solve the case, and I pretty much let it consume me. I couldn't sleep without thinking that I was letting someone get away with hurting Bolin and Opal. So, last night, I waited until dark, dressed up, and went looking for people who could give me some answers. I knew she had been hanging around with some gang members, so I found one of her friends, and dragged him into an alleyway. And then I—"

Korra stopped herself, and hid her face from the rest of the club. Asami instinctively took her hand and squeezed.

"Korra?"

"It's fine," Korra said quietly. "I don't know what came over me. All I wanted was some information. But then, he started taunting me, and one thing led to another, and…"

"You didn't _kill_ him, did you?" Asami asked, fear-stricken.

Korra shook her head, her face drained of emotion. "No, but I got carried away. I started hurting him. _Really_ hurting him. He wasn't a good person, and maybe he deserved it, and I was trying to do the right thing, but… nothing really prepares you for what that feels like. I don't ever want to go through that again."

Asami sat in silent contemplation, her hand still locked with Korra's. The Avatar looked away.

"I bet you think I'm a monster, don't you?"

"Of course not," Asami said, kissing her hand. She smiled sweetly. "What matters is that you know it was wrong and you're never going to do it again. We all make mistakes."

"I'd hardly call it a mistake," Korra said sadly.

"I would. You tried to do the right thing, no matter the cost. Sometimes, things don't always work out like you want them to, and you just… have to get by…"

A single tear trailed down her cheek. Korra brushed it away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"It's," Asami said, flustered. It was amazing how quickly their roles could switch sometimes, as Korra became the protector and caretaker she was born to be. "I really appreciate that you told me that. There's something I want to tell you, too. Something I've been meaning to get off my chest for a while, but never really knew how to tell you."

"Shoot," Korra said, giving a nod of approval. "I'm all ears."

Asami took a deep breath. She had searched for weeks to find the strength to tell Korra, but now, underneath the tempered glow of the lights and faced with Korra's perfect, accepting smile, she found the words coming more easily than she ever could have expected.

"Korra, I—"

"Oh, shit."

"What?" Asami asked, confused. Korra's eyes were locked on something behind her, filled with not so much terror as aggravation.

"That guy over there. At the table. Red Suit. He's staring right at me." Korra sneered. Asami turned to look, but Korra tensed up. "Don't look! Are you nuts?"

"What's the matter? Maybe he just recognizes you."

"I assume he recognizes me. That's the problem."

"Can't handle a fan?"

"Well, some of them," Korra said, reflecting on the strange, smiling boy that liked to stare at her in the park. "But I don't think he's a fan."

"Then what?" Asami said, straining to get a look of the man in question. "Is he a gang member? An assassin?"

"No," Korra said with contempt. "I think he's an admirer."

Asami went rigid with fear. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah. Now you see why this is a problem?"

"What's he doing now?" Asami asked, diverting her full attention to the problem at hand.

"He keeps eying me from across the room and talking to his friends about," Korra groaned. "I think they're trying to convince him to talk to me."

"What does he look like? Is he old? Young? Come on, give me the details."

"He looks like he just graduated."

"College?"

"High school."

"Yikes. You think he's going to come over?"

"If he does, I'm shutting him down," Korra said with determination.

"Korra, please be gentle," Asami warned. "I'm sure he doesn't know what he's doing. I don't want this to end up like last time."

"It won't," Korra said confidently. Naturally, Asami knew not to trust her. Korra had an unfortunate tendency to attract many suitors due to her fame, and over the years, she developed an uncanny ability to break hearts with highly efficient levels of brutality and wit. Asami was fairly certain that Korra memorized dozens of such comebacks in her spare times, because she could not imagine that someone so sweet could be so vicious and cruel (as well as darkly comical).

"Aaaaaaand here he comes," Korra said on cue. "Aw, he's adjusting his tie. That's adorable. Ten yuan says that he starts with an overly formal greeting."

"That's mean," Asami scolded. Nonetheless, when the man finally stepped into view, and she saw his youthful, freckled features mixed with false bravado, she understood where Korra was coming from.

He bowed slightly, and flashed a toothy grin. "Why, good evening, ma'am—"

"Called it."

"I couldn't help but wonder… are you, by any chance, the Avatar?"

"Why, yes I am," Korra said, disinterested. He continued, seemingly unaware of the seething bitterness that radiated off of every word.

"I was just sitting across the room, and I noticed you sitting here," he explained, "and I thought, 'Someone as beautiful and incredible as the Avatar should be out on the dance floor where she can truly shine'. Perhaps, you would like me to accompany you?"

"What's your name?" Korra said, straight-faced.

"Bao."

"How old are you, Bao?"

"Twenty-one."

Asami could practically see the wheels turning in Korra's head, trying to find the perfect way of crushing Bao's dreams. Still, Korra remained polite.

"Sorry, but I think I'm going to pass," she said as kindly as possible.

"I don't think one dance is going to hurt," Bao reasoned.

"I'm simply not feeling it tonight, but thanks for asking."

"A girl like you shouldn't be alone on a night like this," he said.

"No, thank you," Korra said, gradually becoming more irritated with every passing moment. "If you could please let me enjoy my dinner—"

"Give me one reason why you won't dance with me," Bao said insistently. Korra exchanged a glance with Asami, a dash of madness in her eye. A wicked smirk began to take form.

"Don't," Asami mouthed. She knew it was a futile effort, but she needed to try. Her heart sank as Korra blissfully ignored her, turned to Bao with a devilish grin, and said in a very calm tone,

"Well, if I danced with you, then I doubt I would have enough energy for tonight when I fuck my girlfriend."

Asami hung her head in shame, hiding her fuming cheeks as Korra grinned wildly. Bao backed away, flabbergasted.

"Jeez, a simple 'no' would have sufficed," he said, embarrassed. As soon as he left, Korra burst out laughing. Asami was speechless.

"Wow."

"Do you think that scared him off?" Korra asked obliviously.

"I can't believe you actually said that," Asami said in disbelief. "You really said that to another human being."

"What? You saw how obnoxious he is," said Korra defensively.

"There are _people_ around. Watch your language. You're a role model, remember?"

Korra smirked. "You thought it was hysterical, didn't you?"

"No, I don't." Asami smiled against her will, as her true nature betrayed her.

"You know it was good," Korra taunted her. Asami had to admit: her overbearing smugness from telling one good joke was adorable. She cracked further, clasping a hand over her mouth to hide her big, stupid smile. Korra loved every second of it. "You are acting very _refined_ tonight, Miss Sato."

"You're a horrible person," Asami cackled.

"And you put a ring on it!" Korra countered.

"A decision I live with every single day," Asami joked.

"Hey, at least that wasn't the absolute _worst_ thing I've ever said."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive. Don't you remember what I said to that guy with the big beard at the Pro-bending game?"

Asami cringed. "Ugh, I forgot about that one. Good point."

"How could you forget? They almost kicked me out of the stadium for excessive language."

They shared a laugh over the distant memory. At the time, of course, Asami was fuming, because she spent good money on those seats and she would be damned if they got kicked out because some chauvinistic pig couldn't handle rejection, but she supposed everything was funnier in hindsight.

"Seriously though, how do you come up with this stuff?" Asami questioned.

"I guess I'm simply really good at insulting people," Korra said with a shrug. "I wonder if that's one of the traits that all Avatars have?"

"Now that I think about it, the very first thing you said to me was an insult," Asami mused.

"Not this again," Korra whined, sprawling her limbs out onto the table. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry?"

"And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't care? I was just brining up an interesting fact. That's all."

"Well, I'm making that up to you once and for all." Korra rose from her chair and extended her hand to her confused lover, a delightfully delirious idea coursing through her mind. "Dance with me."

"You want to dance? Even after you told a guy off for wanting to dance?"

"I don't want to dance with him. I want to dance with you." Korra smiled. her infectious energy made the offer practically irresistible.

"But Korra," Asami said reasonably, "the doctor said I'm not supposed to do any extraneous activities."

"Then I guess I'll have to do all the work," Korra grinned.

Asami took Korra's hand with content resignation. If insulting people wasn't passed down among Avatars, then she was certain that dancing was. Korra relayed to her stories from Master Katara of Aang's "sensational" groove, and Asami had seen Korra's talent firsthand on multiple occasions. She could only assume that mastering the four elements played a vital role; airbenders were naturally light on their feet, after all. When combined with her penchant for martial arts, the duo became an unrivaled force on the dance floor, a storm of limitless power. And when their hands locked on the wooden stage, and a low-tempo jazz tune blared in the background, they were a whirlwind.

Korra guided her seamlessly through the motions she familiarized herself with. She was the Korra's brush, and the floor their easel. Every masterful stroke left her breathless, and it seemed like every eye in the club was drawn towards them, enchanted, curious to see what kind of portrait they could create together. Asami did not care. The whole world could have been watching, from world leaders, to street rats, to youthful, inexperienced suitors, and she would not care at all, because all that mattered was Korra's blue eyes, her loving smile, her gentle touch at her waist, their two hearts beating in symphony. The minutes passed yet time stayed still, as if too entranced by their intertwining music swelled and their pulses increased, and when the band hit their grand crescendo, Korra dipped her, baptizing in front of a hundred awed gazes, before her whipping her back up, their faces centimeters apart, out of breath and filled with and immense and intoxicating heat.

It was that heat that lingered even after they parted, and everyone else resumed their normal activities, pretending like they did not witness fire in human form. Nor did the heat dissipate as they were served their meals, and Korra nearly forced the food down Asami's mouth to make sure she was well fed. It actively persisted in Asami's mind even as she shared small talk and completely forgot whatever troubled her earlier in the night. It even remained strong as Korra received the bill and minor panic attack over the price. She was finally relieved of the heat when the pair left the club, as Korra casually asked if she would like to go back to Air Temple Island with her, and Asami responded with a disturbingly quick and enthusiastic, "Yes."

They held hands all the way back to Air Temple Island. Although the view of the night sky was nonexistent compared to what she had on the airship, Asami felt at peace gazing up at the stars. Yet, they did not dwindle in the city. Moving with barely concealed haste, they arrived on the island, slipped past Jinora and the kids, and burst into Korra's bedroom. Korra locked the door behind them as Asami collapsed onto her bed and hugged the mattress.

"I forgot how soft your bed is," Asami moaned with delight. "How long has it been? Three months?"

"Four months, sixteen days and ten hours. But who's counting?" Korra joked. She tossed off her slippers and pounced onto her bed, scooping Asami into her arms with a laugh.

"Jeez, you're playful tonight."

"I'm happy," Korra cooed, pecking Asami on the nose. "I'm glad that you finally came home. I've missed you."

"You've also had a few drinks."

"True," Korra noted, tracing her fingers up and down her fiancé's bare arm, "but I think I'm way more drunk on love."

Asami gagged. "Really? That's the line you're going with?"

"Lines like that got you to marry me," Korra said, a seductive grin spreading across her face. She took Asami's arms and pinned them above her head, leaving the Sato heiress helpless. "Besides, I've got a promise to keep."

"But Korra," said Asami, "the doctor said I'm not supposed to do any extraneous activities."

"Then I guess I'll just have to do all the work."

Korra slipped her hand under the straps of Asami's dress, and she gently pressed her lips to Asami's forehead. Asami breathed deeply, surrendering her will to her lover, becoming lost in heat and passion. And when Korra kissed a trail down her neck and collarbone, and combed her long, silky hair away from her face, she felt like the most treasured woman alive.

Korra pushed the straps away, and dug her fingers underneath the hem of Asami's dress. She blew softly in Asami's ear, followed by a whisper.

"I love you."

That was when Asami broke. Her face went numb, and she was frozen in place. Korra noticed how tense she was, and when she pulled away, she stunned to find tears streaming uncontrollably down Asami's face.

"I... I can't do this," Asami choked. She shoved Korra away and sat up on the bed, trembling and visibly shook.

"Asami? What's wrong?" Korra asked, nervously placing a hand on her shoulder, which Asami quickly threw off.

"Please don't touch me!" Asami cried. She turned her back, the moonlight gleaming off of her black hair. Korra jumped in shock.

"Did... did I say something wrong?"

"It's not you," Asami sobbed. "Believe me, it's not you."

"Talk to me. What's the matter?"

Asami trembled as the words came out of her mouth. "I knew... I knew about the attacks before they happened."

It took a few moments to register what she said in Korra's mind. Even when she processed the words, she hardly understood. "W-what do you mean?"

"I... knew that Lin was going to be attacked by the Hanzi Killer," Asami said shakily. "Bolin and Opal, too. I knew and I couldn't save them..."

"Asami, I need you to slow down," Korra stammered. "What happened? How did you know about the attacks?"

"The night before Lin was hurt," Asami sniffled, "I got a phone call. I don't know how he got my number, but he did. He asked me to make things for him. Weapons. Bombs. Traps. He wanted money and supplies transferred to him through secure channels. He told me... he said that if I refused, or I told anyone, he would hurt someone. Someone close to me. At first, I thought it was a prank or some twisted joke. But as he kept going, and I realized he was serious about the things he was talking about, wanting to hurt people, torture people, I got scared. Of course I refused. But then that press conference happened, and you were sent to the hospital, and Lin almost died and... I didn't know what to do.

"Then a few weeks later, he called again, asking for more. He wanted more, and he wanted them desperately. He said Lin was just the beginning. He told me what he would do to Opal and Bolin; he knew where they lived. All I had to do was give him what he wanted, and they would be fine. But... I couldn't do it. I couldn't let a madman get ahold of something that could be used to kill countless people. So I refused. And they paid the price. They were my friends, and I sacrificed them without a second thought. What kind of monster does that?"

"You're not a monster," Korra stated, trying to comprehend what she had learned. "You... you didn't know what would happen."

"Yes, I did," Asami wept. "I chose for that to happen to them. I could have saved them. They've always been there for me, but when they needed me most, I let them down, and for what? The lives of people I barely know? Opal lost a child. Bolin is comatose. How am I supposed to justify what I did? How am I supposed to tell Mako that I almost killed his brother?"

Asami broke down further, shaking and sputtering. Korra was speechless. For all of her training as the Avatar, she did not know how to comfort the person she loved more than anything else in the world.

"It's okay," Korra said over and over. "You were trying to save lives. You did the right thing."

"Did I?" Asami questioned. "What if you were the one in danger? Or what if you were the one who had to let me die to save someone you've never even met? Would that be the right thing?"

Korra didn't give an answer. Instead, she bowed her head, and hugged her knees to her chest.

"You said that the Hanzi Killer called you," Korra asked darkly. "Did you recognize his voice?"

Asami shook her head. "I think the Killer was using someone else as a microphone. The guy sounded petrified as he was talking to me, as if he was being held with a knife at his throat. If the Hanzi Killer has been keeping some people held hostage, that would explain what they're being used for."

"So we still have no leads, huh?"

"Yes, we do," Asami said, her voice as cold as ice. "I was on the phone with Opal when she was attacked. I was too late to warn her, but something she said startled me. She saw the Killer's face, and she said that whoever it was, they weren't a threat. If they knew where she and Bolin lived, and they knew how to contact me... Korra, what if the Hanzi Killer is one of us?"

The two sat in the silent shadows. The night was over. The heat was gone, replaced by a dead cold. Korra did not know what to think anymore. Asami did not know if she would ever forgive herself. Neither had anybody they could trust, not even themselves. Their last evening together ended with sorrow and heartbreak.

Their next would end in tragedy.


	30. A Very Bad Day--Part 1: The Hanzi Killer

**Note: Two chapters in one week? What is this nonsense? Seriously, we're almost at the end now, and we want to thank everyone who has followed along on our crazy two year journey. It's been an absolute pleasure to write this, and who knows? Maybe we'll write a sequel afterwards (if there are any characters left alive to write about). We're cutting up the last three chapters to be (hopefully) dispersed over the next three weekends, followed by a brief epilogue, so stay tuned for more, and enjoy as this mystery finally starts to come to a close!**

* * *

Korra and Asami stayed up all night compiling evidence. By the time the sun began to rise, Korra's room was covered with flash cards and notes carefully jotted with names, places, and times. Asami took care of the organization, creating a web of words so dense that only she had a chance of understanding it. Still, it was a far more effective method than anything Korra had managed to accomplish by herself, and thus she had to give Asami credit. It finally seemed as if they were getting somewhere. The only problem was that Korra did not like where they were headed.

Asami's knowledge of the attacks was the missing piece of the puzzle. Four were killed with knives, expertly dissected and disposed. Four were missing, three of them children, silently stolen in the night. Three injured in bombings, all dear friends. There was plenty of information to work with, but they had been asking all the wrong questions. It didn't matter why the Killer spared some and killed others, or why some were obviously connected while others seemed like random acts of violence. Approaching the case traditionally had gotten them nowhere, so they focused on what they did know: whoever was closely connected to Korra. With the playing field of suspects narrowed, all they had to do was match the methods of the killer with the skills of the individual, and their Killer would be revealed. As they soon found out, that was easier said than done. Even after limiting the suspects, no one appeared to match.

Korra was fairly convinced that she did not murder anybody, so she was ruled out.

Asami was out of town when Valos Basteln was murdered in cold blood, so she was ruled out.

Mako and Chen were investigating a lead downtown while several kidnapping occurred, so they were ruled out.

Bolin and Opal were ruled out for obvious reasons.

Lin was ruled out for obvious reasons (although Korra had a theory that Lin blew herself up on purpose to cover her tracks, though Asami claimed that was stupid).

Varrick and Zhu Li were with Asami on the airship, so they were ruled out.

Tenzin was out of town for the past month, so he was ruled out.

Pema was out of town for the past month, so she was ruled out.

Kya and Bumi had been out of town for years, so they were ruled out.

Suyin and her family were in Zaofu, and were comprised almost entirely of pacifists, so they were ruled out.

Toph lived in a swamp, so she was ruled out.

Jinora, Kai, Ikki, Meelo, and Rohan were being babysat by Korra when Bolin and Opal were attacked, so they were ruled out.

Korra's extended family was accounted for in the Northern and Southern Water Tribes, so they were ruled out.

And lastly, Amon, Tarrlok, Unalaq, P'Li, Ming-Hua, and Ghazan were dead, Vaatu was an immortal spirit being that vanished from existence seven years ago (and probably wouldn't have wasted its time as a serial killer anyway), and Zaheer and Kuvira were in prison, so they were ruled out.

"Do we really need to include those last guys?" Asami asked, sorting through the cards with careful consideration. Korra rested on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She hadn't moved a muscle in three hours.

"What if one of them decided to get revenge?" Korra reasoned. "I know for a fact that Zaheer still wants me dead, and I _did_ lock Kuvira up for four years. That's pretty good motivation if you ask me."

"But Amon? Really? Are we still talking about that?"

"Tell that to Illu Satori."

"Who's that?"

"Someone else who should probably have her name crossed off the list." She stretched her arms out over her head, and groaned. "Are you absolutely sure that it's someone we know?"

"It has to be," Asami said confidently. "Opal knew the person who attacked her. It _has_ to be one of us."

"Yet nobody lines up," Korra stated. "Not only would they have to have the medical skills to cut someone without killing them, but they also would be keeping four people locked up in a cellar somewhere in the city. Do you really think any one of them is capable of doing that?"

"I don't know," Asami said, tired and frustrated. "But it has to be one of them. I know what I heard."

"Maybe the Killer has a split personality that makes them suddenly want to kill things?"

"One: it's called Dissociative Identity Disorder. Two: that's not how it works. Three: I'm sure they would have told us about it."

Korra poured over the list of suspects again, searching for anything she missed. "Hmm… Kya is a healer. That would give her plenty of medical knowledge, right?"

"Isn't she also against all forms of violence? What about Jinora? She's unassuming, can easily get around places, and she's been known to do crazy things from time to time. Didn't she once take her top off at a fancy party Tenzin was throwing?"

"She was drunk. Accidentally drunk. And I was with her during one of the attacks. Maybe it's… wait, that's stupid."

"What's stupid?"

"Well," Korra said shamefully, "I was going to say that Sy could be the killer, but I doubt that girl is even smart enough to hold a knife."

"I don't even think I knew who Sy is," Asami admitted.

"She's Mako new girlfriend," Korra explained. "Well, maybe not 'new'. They've been dating for half a year. I think you met her once. She's the one who looks like a sheet of paper came to life, and also has all the brains of one."

"Oh, that girl? They're still together?" Asami said in shock. It was true that she only met Sy on one occasion, and it was very brief. Asami was preparing to go on another business venture, and when she went to say goodbye to Mako, she noticed the strange young woman magnetized to his arm. By that point, all of Mako's past eight girlfriends blended together, so she was not expecting much to come out of it. Sy merely gave her name, claimed that Asami's shoes were "kickass", and lamented that her hair was not nearly as dark or luscious as the Sato Heiress's. The very fact that Mako managed to stay in a relationship for more than a week was the biggest revelation of the evening.

"I guess he sees something special in her. Maybe he thinks she's the one."

"Please," Asami said dismissively. "He must be settling. There's no way he would turn down both of us so he could be with the ghost of a teen fashion magazine."

"Is that a hint of jealousy I'm detecting?" Korra teased.

"It's a hint of skepticism. You know how toxic Mako is in relationships. What made her stick around with him for six months?"

"I'm going to make a wild guess here and say that she thinks he's hot."

"Or, maybe she's hiding something."

Korra laughed at the absurdity of the statement. "Seriously, Asami. There's no way Sy is the Hanzi Killer. I know I just made fun of her, but she's a pretty decent girl. A bit out there, but decent."

"Does she have an alibi?"

"No, but she's not a murderer," stated Korra, unwavering in her confidence. "Come on, it's _Sy. _She's harmless."

"Korra, how much do you _really_ know about her?" Asami questioned. The doubt was planted firmly in her mind, and slowly, it was starting to fester. "What does she do all day? Where does she live? Hell, do you even know her real name?"

Korra sat up on her bed. "That doesn't matter. Sy isn't the Hanzi Killer. There are a dozen obvious reasons why that can't true."

Asami crossed her arms, honing in on her target. "Such as?"

"To start, she…" Korra paused. She knew there were perfectly reasonable explanations, but she drew nothing but blanks. An image of Sy, friendly and perky, danced in her head, but she couldn't point to any specific thing that would prove to be an adequate defense. Sy merely radiated innocence; she was purity in human form. She was always optimistic even at the worst of times, helping others smile through their struggles. There was not a negative bone in her body. Korra thought of the time Sy tried to cheer up Mako before the press conference. When Mako was falling and felt like a failure, she picked him back up and motivated him to stay on the case. She was right there when Mako needed her, like a true friend.

She was there during the press conference. She was there when Lin was attacked, behind the scenes, past security, where no one would ever notice her.

"Think about it, Korra," Asami said, piecing together the puzzle. "The Hanzi Killer always seems to be one step ahead of us. What she's ahead because she can follow every step of the investigation as it happens? No one would ever suspect her because she's just—"

"A teenage girl," Korra said, startled. "No wonder the police would ever tag her as a suspect. With a look like that, who would ever think twice?"

"She could walk circles around the entire police department and get access to all the information she wanted without them ever batting an eye."

"Wait, slow down," Korra grunted. "We don't know that she did it. We don't have proof. This could all just be a coincidence."

"Who else could it be?" Asami wondered, throwing her hands in the air. "The first few murders were reported in the victims' homes, yet there weren't any signs of breaking or entering. All she would have to do is knock on the door, and they would have invited her inside without question. Three young boys got taken away without so much as a struggle, because if she could flash a bit of skin and they would come crawling to her. She has access to every file in the police archive, not to mention all of Mako's personal information. How else would the Killer get access to our addresses? Our phone numbers? Opal said the Killer wasn't a threat before she was taken out, because she thought Sy was innocent. Just like you. Just like Mako. Just like everybody else. That girl is _playing us_, Korra. You know I'm right."

Korra was silent, lost in contemplation. She never really liked Sy; that much was true. She thought she was annoying and shallow, a woman who had no place in the world and made no effort to find it. Still, she never thought that Sy could be capable of such an evil thing. Sy was joyful. Sy was radiant. But, as she reflected on her memories, the lines grew blurry. Every one of her smiles seemed a bit more nefarious, every joke a bit more forced. Every interaction was always marred and off-putting, and Korra never really knew why until that moment. There was something cruel beneath Sy's pale skin. Something that always seemed out of place. Something greedy, lustful, and envious.

And suddenly, it seemed like that little girl was capable of so much more.

Korra jumped out of her bed, and clenched her fist. "We need to warn Mako and Lin. Who knows what else Sy could do if she isn't contained."

Asami nodded. "Let's get moving. I bet Mako is next on her hit list. Now that she knows I'm back, she's probably starting to feel a little desperate."

"Then I guess we don't have any time to—"

Suddenly, a deafening screech ripped through the air. A tremendous feedback loop rocked the foundation of the temple, and Korra and Asami collapsed to the ground, clutching their hands over their ears.

"What is that thing?" Korra screamed, barely audible over the turbulent cracking of sound.

"I don't know!" Asami cried, urgently trying to silence the world around her. For a brief moment, the sound halted, before a powerful voice rippled through the airwaves.

"_Attention! Attention!_"

Korra crawled onto her bed, and peered out the window, searching for the source of the sound. It did not take long to find. Over the sea, a massive airship came rocketing towards Air Temple Island, massive speakers strapped to it hull, large cannons armed and ready, and giant engines attached to its back. Asami froze, shocked by the presence of a voice that she had been all too familiar with. It was distorted and echoed endlessly, but its sour note was one that Asami would never forget.

"_Attention, Asami Sato!_" Shang called from over the speakers. "_We know you're in there! You have something that belongs to us! Hand it over now, or we'll take it from you!"_

* * *

"I don't get it," Mako said, slamming down the receiver. Sy looked onwards from the couch, fixated on her boyfriend as he paced angrily around his apartment. "Asami disappears the second I get to the hospital, and now she won't answer my calls."

"I'm sure its fine," Sy said calmly. "Have you called Korra and asked if she knows where Asami is?"

"Korra isn't picking up either," Mako groaned.

"Have you considered that she might be, y'know, asleep? It is six in the morning."

"But she wouldn't leave me in the dark for hours. I'm worried about her. What if the Hanzi Killer—"

"Ugh," Sy scoffed, rising to her feet and grabbing Mako by his shoulders. She guided him to the couch, and forced him into the cushions. "Can we stop with this Hanzi Killer bullshit for just one day? Korra is fine. Stop worrying."

"What makes you say that?" Mako asked, curious. Sy simply gave a shrug, and wandered towards the kitchen.

"A hunch," she explained, flaunting her expertise. "No killer would be dumb enough to pick a fight with the Avatar. They would get their asses kicked. Instead, they go after people by surprise. Seems pretty simple to me."

"Then maybe you should be investigating the case."

"I'll gladly take your salary. Better than that dumb shoe store," Sy joked. "Anyway, I know just the thing to pick you up: a special Sy breakfast!" She rummaged through the fridge, pulling out every ounce of food she could find.

"I'm not really hungry."

"Nonsense!" Sy declared. "Food makes everything better. I'm going to fatten you up until you can't even _move_. Oh, this is _perfect_." She happily pulled out a leftover steak dinner from its foam packaging, and slammed it onto the stone countertop, red juice flying in every direction. "How about steak and eggs? That's perfect for a growing boy like you."

"Whatever you say." Mako knew that resistance was futile, and since he knew that no harm would come of it, he gave Sy free reign of his kitchen. "I hope you inherited some of your mother's cooking skills."

"Oh, I inherited _plenty_ from my mom," Sy said with a devious smirk. She pulled out a knife from one of the cupboards, and held it high to examine it. The stainless, serrated steel glistened in the light, and Sy felt immense satisfaction. "Looks, brains, cooking skills… in fact, I even picked up some medical knowledge from her. You really learn a lot about biology when your mother never shuts up about it."

"You're not going to start taking my blood, are you?"

Sy snickered. She took a step out of the kitchen, blade still in hand, and swept back her buoyant, colorless hair. She twirled the knife in her fingers, allowing her mind to be lost in its hypnotic rhythm.

"Mako, I want you to know that I really appreciate everything you've done for me," she said tenderly. Her shoulders were slouched, and there was a far-off look in her eyes. Mako could tell that she was distracted by something.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She took another step forward, rubbing the tip of the blade between her index finger and thumb. Her smile was gone, as he noticed the trembling in her knees.

"I think you're a really great guy," she stated softly, drawing closer and closer, grey eyes never wavering from the steel. "And I feel like I can always count on you to make me feel better. You're the best friend I've ever had."

"Then why are you sad?" Mako asked worriedly. Sy stopped inches away, hovering over him. The light struck her back, casting her pale face in shadow. Her grip on the knife tightened, and she held the blade close to her chest.

"Because I'm tired of keeping secrets," she stated coldly. "I want you to get to know me. The _real_ me. Not the girl you _think _you know."

Mako shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know what you're talking about." She was completely still, silently transfixed on the weapon in her hands. She looked like she was about to burst, as if her secrets were eating her from the inside out.

There was an aggressive knock on the door. Sy nearly jumped out of her skin. The knife fell to the floor with a clang, and she dashed into Mako's arms.

"Sy, get off of me," Mako sneered, tossing his girlfriend to the side. "I need to get the door." He brushed the loose strands of white hair off of his shoulders and straightened his shirt to look presentable. Sy cowered on the couch as he opened the door. He was not worried at all. He called Lin earlier about following up on Asami's disappearance, and he had been expecting her to arrive for over an hour.

What he was not expecting, upon opening the door, was the thick boot that jammed into his stomach, sending him reeling onto the ground in agony. He was not expecting to see Jackdaw's towering frame in the doorway, a cigarette dangling from his lips and four other men surrounding him. And he was not expecting the absolute delight in the madman's icy blue eyes as he stomped on Mako's chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Hey, Mako. Long time no see." He beckoned his followers into Mako's apartment, and they wasted no time in trashing everything in sight. Jackdaw kicked Mako in the ribs with one of his abnormally long legs, as his gaze drifted towards the terrified teenage girl, paralyzed with fear. "Good news, detective. I think I found your Hanzi Killer for you. Took a long time, and a lot my resources, but I came through in the end. Far better than _you_, at least."

He took another puff of his cigarette, sprinkling the ashes on the floor. Mako watched on, confused and horrified, as Jackdaw approached Sy calmly and steadily.

"She was a wily one," he laughed. "When I first met her at that crime scene, I didn't think much of her. But when I started digging deeper, it became obvious. Not only is she the daughter and heir to the Kyoriku crime family, but she also happens to be sleeping with the one man in charge of putting her away? I'm amazed she didn't give herself away. Then again, that hasn't worked out very well in the end, has it?"

Mako did understand what Jackdaw was talking about. All he could focus on was the immense pain in his chest. He saw horror ignite in Sy's face. Instinctively, she dashed towards the knife. She scooped it off of the ground, and in a moment of desperation, took a wild swing at Jackdaw's head. He countered effortlessly; he grabbed her arm mid-swing and tied it around her back, while snatching her by a fistful of hair with his other hand.

"Let… let go of me!" she screamed, trying in vain to free herself. Tears poured down her cheeks. Mako felt helpless as he watched Jackdaw guide her over to the kitchen.

Jackdaw grinned. "You look really ugly when you cry. Let me fix that for you." She begged for mercy, but he ignored her. He pulled her head back as far as it could go, and then, slammed her head into the stone countertop as hard as he could.

Sy's face exploded upon impact. Her nose folded in on itself with a crunch. Some fragmenting pieces of cartilage bent sideways across her face; others drove inwards towards her nasal cavity, piercing through layers of tissue as it pressed into her skull. Her two front teeth connected hard against the stone, cracking in half; the jagged remains cut into her lips and gums. The skin on the bridge of her nose ripped like paper, exposing the raw layer of flesh beneath. Her forehead cracked as if it were glass, leaving a viscious dent in her skull. As Jackdaw peeled her face away from the countertop, bits of skin and flesh stuck to the cold stone, and her thick blood oozed profusely from the gashes in her head, nose and mouth, dyeing her creamy white skin a violent red. Mako saw no emotion in her grey eyes as Jackdaw threw her to the ground. The only indication that she was still alive was the slow rise and fall of her chest.

"Boss, the apartment is trashed," said one of the criminals. "Do you want me to finish off the girl?"

Jackdaw flashed a wicked smile. "No, no, no. Leave her for the police. I was promised freedom if I caught the Hanzi Killer alive. Besides, she's not the one we came for." He walked over to Mako, and delivered another swift kick to the ribs. The detective was powerless to do anything, as he watched Sy bleed out on the floor, her face an indescribable mess of color and meat.

"Why are you doing this?" Mako choked.

"Because you've disrespected me, Mako," Jackdaw said cruelly. "You've disrespected my _livelihood_, and you've disrespected my _power_. You suffer because of your arrogance. It's time for you to learn a very important lesson, detective: You don't _ever_ try to start trouble in Jackdaw's Den."


	31. A Very Bad Day--Part 2: Shang

**Note: One more week to go! Expect an epilogue chapter sometime soon after that. That's all for now. Enjoy.**

* * *

Korra and Asami rushed outside. Jinora had gathered her siblings, and was staring up at the airship speedily heading towards them. Kai glided overhead in his wingsuit, and upon seeing the Avatar, made a hasty landing.

"That ship is armed to the teeth," he reported nervously.

"Asami, do you know who that is?" asked Jinora.

"It's Shang," Asami growled. "He's the one who promised to help Future Industries before he stabbed me in the back. Looks like he didn't appreciate me punching him in the face."

"How did he get back here so quickly?" Korra wondered. "It took you weeks to fly all the way down the continent, but he managed to fly back in a couple of days? That doesn't make sense."

"It's those rockets attached to the airship," Asami assumed. "Varrick and I were working on a means of faster travel. We managed to finish a few prototypes before we escaped. He must have strapped them to the back of the ship and hoped for the best."

"That doesn't sound safe," Ikki noted.

"It's not," Asami claimed. "We never got to finish our tests. Those prototypes are highly unstable. They could explode at any moment, taking the whole airship and everything in the vicinity down with it."

"So, it's a bomb," Jinora said worriedly. "A very big bomb."

"And it's heading straight for us," Korra stated. Thinking quickly, she formulated her plan of attack. "We need to up there and shut that ship down before it reaches the island. Ikki, Jinora, you're with me. Boys, you need to get everyone out of here and onto the mainland in case we don't make it on time. Asami, stay with them."

"What? No way!" Asami protested. "You're not going without me. Shang is messing with my technology, which means it's _my_ responsibility to stop him."

"You aren't going anywhere with that injury of yours," Korra said forcefully. "You can barely stand. I'm not risking you stressing that concussion because you have a score to settle."

"But I—"

"No buts. You are staying here where it's safe. I have two of the best airbenders on the planet with me. I'll be fine. Just lay low and let me handle this, okay?"

Asami felt the urge to resist, but Korra's steel words extinguished the fire within her, and she swallowed her pride.

"Okay."

"Good," Korra said with relief, turning to the young airbender to her side. "Meelo, I'm counting on you to look after Asami. You'll take care of her, right?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Meelo exclaimed with a salute. His voice surged with bravado as he extended a hand to the Avatar's fiancé. "Follow me, my queen! I shall protect you!"

Asami sighed and took his hand, turning to her lover. "You better not die on me."

Korra smirked. "And miss taking care of your injured butt? Wouldn't dream of it."

The Avatar took off sprinting towards the speeding airship. She shot her hands downwards, and pillar of earth erupted beneath her, propelling her into the sky. A blast of fire emerged from her hands and feet, rapidly guiding her towards the mad inventor and his flying fortress. As she raced forward, the ship burst into shades of orange as cannonballs launched towards her, flaming and smoldering as the barreled through the air. Using gusts of air, she blasted them aside, never losing momentum as she charged through the all-out assault. The cannonballs landed harmlessly in the water, sizzling as they were extinguished.

"_Won't somebody hit her already?_" Shang ordered over the speakers. "_It's one woman! How hard is it to hit one woman with a flaming ball of death?"_

As Korra approached the airship, she could see the three pirates operating the cannons at the front of the ship. They raced to load the ammunition, sloppily shoving the cast iron spheres in and firing them without bothering to aim. She locked on to the closest pirate, and accelerated drastically. He tried to dive out of the way, but failed as she connected a boot into his sternum, knocking him out on the balcony. The other two moved to retaliate, but were taken out with simultaneous attacks from the airbending sisters.

"How many more do you think they are?" asked Ikki.

"No idea," said Korra, "but keep your guard up. I don't want anything like what happened to Asami."

They entered the airship from a nearby maintenance door. Inside was a metal chute ascending into the center of the aircraft, and a ladder embedded into the wall. The trio moved quickly up the ladder, knowing that at any moment, they could be blown to smithereens.

"It's so hot in here," said Jinora, brushing sweat from her brow. They climbed for what felt like an eternity before emerging from a hatch leading to the cargo hold. Korra left first and checked her surroundings, making sure the coast was clear before calling the others. "Do you have any idea where you're going?"

"No clue," Korra said, helping Jinora up from the hatch. "I figure that Shang is waiting at the bridge. If this ship is anything like a Future Industries airship, then that probably means it's directly above us."

"And how do we get there?"

"There are probably stairs nearby. It'll be easy," Korra said unconfidently. She hurried to the door of the cargo hold, and kicked it open. Two big, grubby pirates were standing on the other side, very confused and very alerted.

"Or not."

Korra spun and kicked a wave of air towards them, knocking them onto their stomachs She raced past them, navigating through the corridors at a blistering pace. She glided off of the metal walls, bouncing off of surfaces and gliding smoothly forward. She ran across more pirates along the way, but before any of them had a chance to strike, she skirted around them, flipping onto the ceiling and dashing over their heads before resuming her normal sprint. Ikki and Jinora followed suit. Years of rigid training kept them light on their feet. They moved like the wind itself, blowing past any obstacle in their path while never losing balance.

Shang's voice rang throughout the hallways, rattling in the speakers. "_There are intruders on my ship! If you want to get your paycheck, stop them!"_

The halls illuminated in a red flash, and sirens blared, but the trio did not halt. They charged forward with added ferocity, pushing past every pirate they came across.

"_Is anyone listening to me?"_ Shang bellowed. "_What part of kill the Avatar is so hard to under—"_

Korra burst through the door to the bridge, a sneer on her face and a flame emerging from her hand. The bridge was divided into two sections; a lower area by the entrance, and a raised platform where the navigational equipment was held separated by a railing. It was completely abandoned, save for Shang, who huddled over a microphone, and his wife Katarina, who was balled up in a corner, petrified. He gulped as Ikki and Jinora arrived, ready to spring into action if needed.

"Hey," Shang said with a nervous laugh. "It's _you_. The Avatar. Asami has told me so much about you. Right, Katarina?"

Katarina shook violently, her eyes wide. "The Avatar is going to kill us. The Avatar is going to kill us. The Avatar is going to kill us."

"Shang. Shut down this airship now," Korra demanded. She took a menacing step forward. Shang shifted backwards.

"No can do, Avatar. This ship doesn't sink until I get my stuff back."

"This isn't a game," Korra growled, stepping onto the platform. "Lives are at risk. Land the airship. I'm not asking again."

"Then you better tell your girlfriend to stop being a selfish bitch and give me back what's mine!" Shang protested. Korra's temper flared. She suddenly shot forward, grabbing Shang by his collar. She effortlessly threw him over the railing and onto the hard floor. Katarina screamed in terror; Jinora rushed to get her contained. Ikki watched on in shock as Korra hoisted Shang up once more and pinned him against the wall.

"Don't you _ever_ call her that again," Korra snarled. There was a fire in her words that Ikki had never heard before, and it left her immobilized. "Now, you're going to land this airship, or I am going to start breaking things. Got it?"

"Please," Shang said, disinterested. "You're not intimidating me—whoa!"

Korra drove Shang headfirst into the railing. His head bounced off like rubber, and smacked into the cold ground with a dense thud. A trickle of blood flowed from Shang's lips. Ikki's clasped her hand over her mouth and staggered backwards. Jinora froze, watching with confusion from afar. Neither of them really understood what they had seen. Korra was emotionless as she picked Shang up by the head, and dragged him to the control board. She thrust him into it, and he collapsed, unable to support his own weight. She forced him to his feet, and met his distant gaze.

"You gave Asami a concussion, and broke her heart. You already have the concussion. Land the fucking airship, or I make it even."

Shang had no words left. Hazily, he activated the landing sequence of the airship, barely pressing each of the necessary keys. Jinora resumed her attempts to restrain Katarina, trying to rationalize Korra's brutality. Ikki stood motionless in the doorway. Korra spotted her in the corner of her eye.

"Ikki, lock the door and make sure no one comes in here," she ordered. Ikki nodded shakily, and slammed the doors shut.

Then, all of a sudden, there was a crack of thunder, and a massive shockwave ripped through the airship. It rolled sideways, sending the bridge occupants flying into the wall uncontrollably. Korra landed awkwardly on her shoulder, and she cried out as she felt the joint pop out of its socket. Vertigo took control of her senses. She realized that they were falling, and falling fast. Alarms blared louder than ever before, yet Katarina's nightmarish screams were the loudest of all. It took a few moments for Korra to come to a horrifying revelation: They were plummeting directly towards Air Temple Island, and there was no way to stop.

* * *

The bag was removed from Mako's head, and he could finally breathe. He barely inhaled before someone kicked him into the dirt and laughed in delight. The chamber was dark and damp, layered with grime from years of neglect. A long rope circled around him, acting as a barrier. Up above, dim lanterns flickered, and two balconies clung to the walls, loaded with crooked, jeering faces. The darkness ascended up into the high ceiling, seemingly going on forever.

"Welcome to Jackdaw's Den, kid."

On the opposite end of the arena, Jackdaw towered, grinning at the sight of the defeated detective before him. He was bare-chested and bare-footed, only dressed in a pair of grey slacks, displaying his lanky, oddly-proportioned figure to the crowd. What Mako's gaze, however, was the marking on his chest: a black, six-headed dragon, whose heads bit and snapped at each other as they traced across his torso and up his neck. It was the insignia of the Black Alchemists, the cult of deranged killers that slithered around the world ten years prior. It was a mark that Jackdaw wore proudly, and as he turned to the crowd of criminals that gathered in his house of madness, he puffed out his chest so that the visage was visible to all. His usual mask of calmness was gone; he was in his element, and he openly showed his love of every moment.

"It's been far too long, gentlemen! Tonight marks the night that Jackdaw's Den returns to its former glory!"

The crowd chanted his name, and he waved his arms, playing to their violent sensibilities.

"I know you are all eager to get started, but first I have to get some things off of my chest. For ten years, I've been under lockdown by the Republic City Police Department. They kept me shackled, held down in a pathetically small house in the middle of a rundown neighborhood. They did all they could to strip me of my dignity. But I never lost sight of what of really mattered: each and every single one of you. You men are like my brothers. You've always had my back, and without you and your constant support, we wouldn't be where we are today."

The men burst into a frenzied applause. Jackdaw silenced them, turning serious. "In my absence, this city has been taken over by a bunch of weak-willed, undeserving wastes of human life. Lin Beifong has expanded her power as Police Chief." A chorus of boos rained down from the balconies. "The Avatar has come back, and she's become so damn famous, they built a statue of her in the middle of the park. And, worst of all, our legacy has been _stolen_ from us by a serial killer so ashamed that she had to hide behind a stupid, little codename."

He smirked. "Well, no more. I found the Hanzi Killer, and I bashed her fucking brains in!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, celebrating their mad king.

"Today marks the day that we return to form!" Jackdaw declared. "Today, we start a revolution. Today, we take the fight to them. No longer are we going to hide in the shadows like a bunch of scared little kids. We are going to show everyone that _we_ run Republic City! Not Beifong. Not the Avatar. Not nobody but us. _We_ are the ghosts they tell stories about at campfires! _We_ are the monsters that hide under children's beds! _We_ are the ones that the people fear! _We_ are the ones that own the streets! _We_ are brothers! _We _are monsters! And _we_ are going to take back Republic City!"

The crowd exploded, set afire with Jackdaw's words. Their cheers and chants were deafening, and Jackdaw stood pleased in the center of the arena, absorbing the energy from his loyal followers. He grinned and pointed at Mako, a wicked glimmer in his eye.

"This, gentlemen, is Detective Mako," he announced. "He is Chief Beifong's favorite son. He's been hounding me for weeks, thinking that I was the Hanzi Killer. But this poor, stupid son of a bitch was too dumb to realize that the Hanzi Killer was the girl he was getting on top of every night."

On cue, the audience laughed, reveling in Mako's misery. Jackdaw rummaged his fingers through his greasy hair and continued.

"Detective Mako here has intruded on my life one too many times. I think that, as punishment for his incompetence, we give him the standard treatment for all pigs that wander into Jackdaw's Den."

"Fight to the death!" the crowd chanted in unison. Jackdaw reached into his pockets, and pulled out two switchblades. The flipped open with ease. The flawless steel glistened in the glow of the flames. Holding one in each hand, Jackdaw beckoned Mako forward.

"Come on, boy," he taunted. "It's been a while since I've had any fun. You and me. One-on-one. One walks out. One drops dead. Let's give these people a show they'll _never_ forget."

Mako rose shakily to his feet. The rioting of the crowd attacked him from all angles. There was nowhere left to run. No one knew where he was. No one was coming to help him. He was alone against the man who took down ten senior officers without breaking a sweat, a man considered by Lin to be one of the most dangerous fighters in the world. Even if he took down Jackdaw, there was no guarantee he would make it out alive.

But he refused to let that pit be his grave. He swallowed his fear and his inhibitions. Jackdaw had tormented him for weeks, kidnapped him, and tortured Sy. It was time to put an end to the madness. He would not be deterred any longer. He had to win the fight, for his brother, for his sister-in-law, for the innocent girl that was lying broken in his apartment. Mako let the anger fuel the fire within him, and without holding back, he charged.

Mako took two steps forward before a blade jammed into his hand, and Jackdaw effortlessly snapped his arm in half.


	32. A Very Bad Day--Part 3: Jackdaw

**Note: Well, this is the final chapter. We've made it to the end. Of course, there will still be an epilogue to wrap things up (which might be out by the weekend), but for now, this is it. We know that we've been really bad with release dates (usually only one chapter every month for nearly two years), so we suppose it's ironic that we finally got our act together right as the story wrapped up. This will probably be the last note we leave on this story, so from the bottom of our hearts, thank you. Seriously, thank you guys. You've all been awesome. You've helped us become better writers, and for that, we are eternally grateful. We know it's not easy sticking with a story for two years-especially since our characters and pacing _sucked_ sometimes-but you guys put up with us, and that requires a dedication we probably wouldn't have ourselves. We're really proud of what we accomplished. So, this is it. This is the final chapter of Crescendo. That's weird to write. Anyways, we're GodSaveTheKings, and we have no idea what we're going to do next after this. Peace out. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Korra! We're falling towards home!" shouted Ikki. Korra tried to regain her footing, but the airship shook once more and knocked her off of her feet. Her shoulder felt like it was being torn through with a spear. She could hardly concentrate, locked onto the intense pain shooting through her arm. She saw Shang tumble lifelessly across the floor; Katarina lunged at him, hugging him for dear life.

"We need to do something fast!" said Jinora, watching the earth rapidly approach from the front window.

"I know." Korra said, agitated. "I'm trying."

"Try harder!" screamed Ikki.

Katarina shrieked. "I never should have agreed to this stupid job. I want to go home! I want to go home!"

Korra looked out the window. The ship was in a nosedive. If she did not act quickly, they would crash and burn on the island. Thinking fast, she shot to her feet, and sprinted towards the window. The ground quaked and she stumbled, but she staggered upright and hurried forward. She hated what she was about to do, but there wasn't any time.

"Korra, what are you doing?" asked Jinora, panicked.

"Something very stupid," Korra stated.

She gripped her wounded shoulder, turned her side to the window, and closed her eyes. Then, with all of her strength, she threw herself at the glass, shattering it into thousands of razor-sharp shards. She flew outside of the airship and tumbled down the front, slamming uncontrollably against the metal frame, which battered and bruised her skin. She slid down the rounded surface, just as determined, waiting until she reached the tip of the fortress, where she rolled off the ship, and began to fall. The wind blasted her face, the wind howled in her ears, and she spun around in circles, but she remained unfazed. She straightened out her flight and targeted a smooth spot of stone on Air Temple Island. Pressing her arms at her side, she propelled down like a rocket, steering towards the patch of dry land. She heard the metal ship groan as it fell behind her, chasing her to the earth. In the distance, she saw the last of the rafts heading towards the mainland. It was time to act.

When the ground was only fifty meters away, she took a deep breath, and cupped her hands around her lips. She blew as hard as she could, directing the funnel of hard air down to slow her descent. The pressure built steadily beneath her. The rush of the wind slowed, and though her landing was far from graceful, she made it to the stone structure without much more than a few scratches.

Another explosion ripped through the air. The other rocket gave out, and the ship fell faster, crumbling in on itself. Korra planted her feet firmly into the ground, encasing her legs in stone so that she would not fall. She outstretched her arms, closed her eyes, and concentrated. The screeching stabbed at Korra's eardrums. She needed to stay focused. It was only a matter of seconds before the airship crashed. She shut out the noise, and focused.

"Inner peace," she said under her breath. "Inner peace."

Her eyes shot open, glowing a brilliant white. The stone cracked and splintered at her feet, and the air became still. She felt the energy of the world coursing through her veins, pulsing in every muscle, vibrating in every neuron in her body. Her blood became electricity, her bones steel, and her voice an inferno. She felt immortal, invulnerable; all of the power in the world rested at her fingertips. She spoke, and time itself stood still.

Korra thrust her hands downwards, and the airship responded. It jerked forward, straightening out its flight pattern. It began to slow; the exterior of the ship crumpled under the pressure, but Korra held it together, guiding it to the ground. Her arms trembled as it drew closer to the ocean, gravity tugging it down and forces tearing it apart. She could feel it start to rupture.

"Come on," she moaned. "Almost there…"

The nose of the ship touched the water, and the strain on Korra's shoulder nearly overwhelmed her. Even in the Avatar State, it proved to be too much. She lost control for only a moment, but in that time, the back fell hard into the ocean, sending massive waves in every direction. Korra acted fast, running to the shore and creating a bridge of ice that rocketed towards the ship hundreds of meters away from the shore. The ice instantly froze everything it touched, creating a bed for the airship to rest on. With one final groan, the airship settled into place, as the waves it created dissipated into the sea.

Korra dropped to her knees on the rocky shore. The surge of energy faded. Her eyes returned to their normal blue. Her shoulder was on fire, and her head felt like it had been run over with a semi-truck. But the airship had landed. Shang was dealt with. Asami was safe. That was all that really mattered.

It took an hour for the sirens to arrive. By that time, Ikki and Jinora had rounded up Shang and the rest of his crew, and subdued them on the island. Korra could barely move; every ounce of energy had been drained out of her. She had never attempted to bend something that large before all at once, and it took its toll. When Lin finally drove up to her in a patrol car, and observed her from behind, the detective was just as worn out as she was.

"So… looks like you've been keeping yourself busy. I see why you haven't answered my calls," Lin sighed.

"Did you get Shang?" asked Korra.

"Him and his wife are headed back to the precinct for interrogation. We'll have to find room for all the rest. The guy's barely conscious. It looked like his head was bashed in with a lead pipe. Must have had a pretty bad fall during the crash."

Korra said nothing. Lin immediately understood, but didn't bother following up.

"What happened to you?"

"I just survived a freefall and bent an airship out of the sky," Korra explained weakly.

"Not that," Lin shook her head. She pointed to Korra's mangled arm. The Avatar shrugged, rose to her feet, and extended her limb to the Police Chief.

"Want to give me a hand?" she asked. Lin nodded, and grabbed onto Korra's shoulder. Korra held her breath.

"This might hurt a bit."

"Just please get it over with."

"Okay," Lin agreed. "I'll go after a count of three. One…"

Lin suddenly jammed the joint back into place, and Korra screamed in agony. She collapsed onto the ground, tears in her eyes.

"I told you it would hurt," Lin said dryly.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" Korra cried. "Fuck you, Beifong!"

"Hey, in my experience, it's better to make it a surprise. Also, watch your language. There are kids around."

Korra struggled to her feet. Despite Li's best intentions, the pain had not subsided. "Isn't it supposed to stop hurting by now?"

"Not if you tore something," Lin explained. She pinched the sides of her nose with two fingers, and closed her eyes. "This day keeps getting worse and worse."

"What are you talking about?" Korra groaned.

Lin struggled to speak. She hardly believed the words coming out of her mouth. "Mako… he was taken."

Korra snapped to attention. Suddenly, the memories of what happened before Shang's attacks came rushing back to her, and she desperately grabbed Lin by the arms, shaking her violently.

"It's Sy!" she shouted. "Sy is the Hanzi Killer. She _has_ to be. You have to believe me-"

"Calm down," Lin said, shaking Korra off. Korra noticed how unusually calm she was. There wasn't any worry in Lin's face, or anger, or sadness. There was merely acceptance, an acceptance that she had failed once again to keep her friends safe, an acceptance that this was the reality she would have to become accustomed to from now on. "I already know that his girlfriend is the Hanzi Killer."

Korra was shocked. "Wha—how do you know? Why aren't you going after her?"

"Because the Hanzi Killer didn't kidnap Mako," Lin explained. "About half an hour ago, we got an anonymous call about a disturbance at Mako's apartment. When we got there, we found the place ransacked and Sy lying in a pile of blood on the floor. A note was taped to what remained of her face, listing all the evidence that she was the Killer. Right now, the girl is being taken care of in a hospital bed. Mako disappeared without a trace. I barely had time to investigate before I heard explosions coming from this side of the city."

"That doesn't make any sense," stated Korra. "If someone was going after the Hanzi Killer, why would they also go after Mako? How did they even know that Sy was the Killer? Are you sure she didn't set this up?"

"You didn't see her injuries. Trust me, she's innocent. For this, at least."

"Well, who else could have done it?" questioned Korra. "I mean, would anybody else even be _investigating_ the Hanzi Killer?"

"To my knowledge: no. Mako was the only one assigned to the case. Well, except—"

Lin's eyes went wide with terror. She turned and sprinted towards her car. Korra followed suit.

"Lin, what's wrong?" Korra asked, confused. "Do you know who took Mako?"

"I think so, but we need to hurry," Lin said quickly. "If I'm right, then we have a problem much bigger than the Hanzi Killer on our hands."

* * *

Mako did not see the blade enter his hand, but he definitely felt it. He rolled over, fighting back the scream that would only give his opponent more satisfaction. His bone was fractured, nearly protruding out of his blackened arm. The gash in his hand was not bloody; Jackdaw superheated the knife, burning the flesh as he cut into it. The Black Alchemist snickered at Mako's excruciating pain.

"Well, that was quick. I thought you were supposed to be better than that, Mako." He waltzed over to the detective, and stomped on his chest, compressing his sternum. "I heard that you once sacrificed yourself to save Republic City from Kuvira's army. Where is that passion? That intensity?"

Jackdaw stepped on Mako's hand, and lightly ground his boot into it, coating the open wound with dirt and grime.

"Maybe we can shock that intensity out of you."

The mad king raised his foot, and crushed Mako's hand with a vicious stomp. His fingers snapped like twigs, each making a delightful pop as they broke. Mako couldn't hold back. His wailing echoed throughout the den, drawing cheers from the onlooking crowd. Jackdaw, not yet satisfied, created a flame in the palm of his hand, and held his knife over it. When the steel glowed red, Jackdaw knelt down, and traced a zig-zagging pattern up Mako's broken arm.

"Have any fight left in you?" asked Jackdaw. He picked up the arm and shook it around, letting the bone fragments dance within Mako's flesh. He smiled. "Oh, I see the problem. Only the radius is broken. See, there are three major bones in the arm. Right next to the radius is the ulna…"

Jackdaw cracked the bone over his knee with a snap.

"…and right above that, we have the humerus, also known as the funny bone."

Jackdaw twisted Mako's arm until he heard a crack, and the sweet sound of the detective's screams. Next, he grabbed onto Mako's shoulder, digging his slender fingers into the muscle.

"Now, if we were to continue upwards, we would reach the scapula."

Crunch.

"Followed shortly by the clavicle, aka the collarbone."

Snap.

"Then," Jackdaw whispered into Mako's ear, "we get to do it all over again on the other side."

Jackdaw created a path of destruction down Mako's body. He enjoyed Mako's cries and whimpers as he cracked a bone in two. Granted, he would have liked more of a challenge, but he was having an absolute ball. He picked up each finger individually, giving them special attention as he splintered them. The swelling was immense, causing Mako's entire arms to be coated black and blue. The policeman faded in and out of consciousness, but Jackdaw slapped him awake. The criminal grabbed Mako's right foot, and hoisted it in the air, twirling a blade in his free hand.

"Can I be honest with you for a moment, Mako?" Jackdaw asked quietly, so that the others would not hear him. "I never really _believed_ in anything the Black Alchemists told me. You see, those psychopaths believed in strange rituals, and other worlds, and a whole bunch of spiritual nonsense. Me, I'm a guy who believes in simpler things, like cigarettes and blood. The only reason I joined them was that they gave me something to do and someone to kill. When Lin gave me the option to sell those bastards out for my freedom, it was the easiest decision I ever made in my life. I guess what I'm trying to say is: Most causes aren't worth believing in. Think about it. You've been following Lin's cause for years. What has that ever gotten you? You work long hours every week, risking your life on a daily basis. You live in a shitty apartment with nothing to show for it. The only person who ever managed to care for you turned out to be using you for her own nefarious gain. The only thing following that cause has gotten you is locked up in this pit with me. It's the same thing with these people here. They don't matter to me, or anyone else. They could never take over this city. But they're dumb enough to _believe_. Who am I to stop them? All they can do is help me get the only things I want in this world: cigarettes and blood."

Jackdaw smirked. "Luckily, you have a lot more blood left to shed. It's time for you to learn about the human leg. Let's start with the—"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and the door to Jackdaw's Den blew off its hinges. The audience was shocked into silence. Jackdaw dropped Mako's leg and stared curiously at the doorway. Standing silhouetted in the frame was one very furious young woman, with a squad of police cars waiting just outside. Korra stepped onto the dirt pitch, and locked eyes with Mako. She showed no emotion; she merely glared at him, studying his broken form. She directed her gaze at Jackdaw, a skyscraper of a man, who grinned wildly at the thought of the Avatar entering his domain.

Korra spoke without empathy. "So, you're the one whose been causing all of this trouble."

Jackdaw replied, "So, you're the Avatar."

"I am really not in the mood for this," stated Korra. "I've been having a very bad day so far, so I'm going to put this bluntly: If you don't drop your weapon and surrender in the next ten seconds, I am going to hurt you. _Badly_. Ten… nine…"

Jackdaw, undaunted, turned to his audience. "Look who it is, boys! The Avatar has decided to grace us with her presence. How about we show her what happens when she steps on the wrong side of town?"

Gradually, the crowd cheered their leader, although significantly less enthusiastically than before. Annoyed, Jackdaw spoke louder.

"Come on, guys. Do you really think that she holds a candle to me? _Me_? Are you forgetting who I am? Compared to her…"

Jackdaw turned around, and froze. Korra stood inches away, staring up at him with dead, glowing eyes.

"One."

Jackdaw's reflexes kicked in. He whirled his arm in a wide arc, and swung at Korra's head, aiming the tip of the blade directly at her eye. She raised her hand, blocking the weapon with her palm. The metal bent sideways upon touching her skin. She retaliated with a blast of hard air to Jackdaw's stomach, sending him flying back into the dark corner of the Den. He jumped to his feet, brimming with confidence, and launched a powerful wave of fire at her. The flames consumed her, illuminating the darkened pit in an orange light. Mako shut his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch. Jackdaw shouted over the crackling of the flames.

"I've always wanted to kill the Avatar!" he laughed. "You're not so tough! I thought you actually wanted a fight?"

He retracted his hand, and the fire subsided. Instantly, his smile vanished. Korra stood in the same spot on the ground, unharmed, undeterred, and unhappy. She put forward her hand, and beckoned him over.

"Then why don't you give me one, _Domin_?"

Jackdaw sneered. She was mocking him in his home. _His home_. No one disrespected Jackdaw. He was the greatest fighter in the world, and he refused to be talked down to by such a pathetic little girl. Enraged, he charged forward, brandishing his silver blade. He attacked rapidly, dishing out a series of stabs and slices that were each capable of taking her life. He was quick and unpredictable, yet incredibly precise, keeping a steady fluidity as he clawed at her with his knife. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, Korra dodged his every attack effortlessly. Right when his strike was about to connect, she stepped to the left or turned aside and let the knife-edge pass harmlessly by her. Her lips never broke horizontal as she moved. Furious, he whipped another knife out of his back pocket, and picked up the pace. He was throwing out three of four attacks every second, but he only met the air. Korra could not even be bothered to look intimidated, and he snarled as he missed a wild jab at her neck.

"You've never fought an airbender before, have you?" she asked plainly. She suddenly grabbed Jackdaw's wrist and twisted. He screamed, dropping the knife to the ground. "Lin told me that you've been locked up for so long that you never would have had the chance to face one of us. When you've mastered it, you're able to sense the change in air pressure whenever an opponent is about to attack."

Jackdaw tried to counter with his free hand, but Korra leaned back and kicked Jackdaw in the knee, dropping him to her level.

"I know every move you're going to make before you do."

A pillar of earth sprung from the ground, breaking through the wooden flooring, and encased Jackdaw's hand in stone. It dragged him down further, while Korra pinned his other hand to the ground and buried it in the dirt, hardening the surrounding material so that he could not escape. The crowd watched in stunned silence as Korra perched over their leader, who was unable to fight back. He spat in her face.

"You know Korra… you're a real cunt," Jackdaw said snidely. "Why don't you go piss off and _die_ somewhere, huh? Maybe your next incarnation will at least have the balls to kill me."

Korra, expressionless, took two steps backwards, examining the wicked creature the lay captured before her. She knew the eyes of the police and the Den were all upon her. After a careful moment of consideration, Korra stared directly into Jackdaw's icy, blue eyes, and then kicked him in the jaw as hard as she could. His teeth shattered like glass, and fell into the dust. He wailed like a wounded wolf, his mouth bloody and hollow. But Korra wasn't done; she lunged at him, stabbing one hand into his forehead and another into his chest.

Jackdaw felt a poison rush through his body. His life was being drained from every pore as the Avatar's putrid energy discharged into him. Korra ripped his spirit into pieces, taking it away in thick chunks. His bending drizzled out of him like sap from a tree. His muscles atrophied and his bones became brittle. His throat could not form words and his mind could create not a single thought. Gazing up at the godly woman with dilated pupils, a truth washed over him. Under the power of the Avatar, he was nothing, an insignificant worm, a broken shell of a man. Compared to her, his life was meaningless. When he was finally emptied, and his bending was no more, he passed out, slumped over in his chains, mentally and physically defeated.

Korra took a deep breath, and turned to address her astonished audience.

"Anyone else?"

Of course, none of them said anything. She didn't expect them to. With Jackdaw taken care of, Korra walked over to Mako, and knelt by his side. She gently placed a hand on his chest, and finally, cracked a gentle smile.

"Hey, Mako," she said softly. "How are you doing?"

"You… you actually won," Mako said, amazed and terrified all at once.

"Well, I couldn't let him keep beating you up. That's my job." Korra tried to play it off as a joke, but the pain in her voice was unmistakable. She carefully picked Mako off of the ground, and balanced him on her uninjured shoulder.

"Korra, Sy is… Jackdaw said she…"

"I'll explain everything," said Korra. "Right now, let's get you somewhere safe."

Lin and her forces swarmed the Den like hornets, as Korra carried Mako out into the bright daylight, where a broken world eagerly waited to greet them.


	33. New Beginnings

Mako did not believe them at first. When they told him that Sy was responsible for the attacks on his brother and his sister-in-law, he shrugged it off as nothing more than an outlandish theory. He knew his girlfriend better than anyone, he told them. But when Korra and Asami began to explain to him their reasoning, and the mountain of evidence to support it, his confidence began to wane until it dissipated completely into doubt and confusion. He could not comprehend it. He had given her his bed, his friendship and his affection. How could she, the girl who radiated happiness, be such a heartless creature?

"We don't know," Asami said, discouraged. Mako strained in his hospital bed. His arms were suspended in the air above his chest, immobile in his casts. "But Sy isn't like most other people. There's no telling what could be going through her head."

"That doesn't make any sense," Mako groaned, acting out one final plea. "Why would Sy leave me unharmed when she had so many chances to kill me?"

"She was using you for information," Asami explained. "She was using all of us. Everything she did was for her own personal gain. You never mattered to her."

"I can't believe that," Mako said, weak but defiant. "I just… I can't believe it was her."

"None of us thought it would be," Korra interrupted. "I know it's hard for you to understand. You think you know a person, only for them to turn around and stab you in the back. But the evidence doesn't lie. She's the Hanzi Killer."

"Well, what if—"

"No!" Korra snapped, silencing the detective. "No 'what if's. No second guesses. She matches the case perfectly, and the suspect list has run dry. It's her. We _know_ it's her. The only thing we can do is bury it and try to move forward."

Asami shifted nervously in her chair. She wasn't wavering on her deduction, but Korra's outburst rattled her. She knew the Avatar was tired and fed-up. Whether that excused her behavior was another conversation entirely. Luckily, it was a conversation they were able to avoid, as Lin sullenly walked into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well," she sighed, "the girl is out cold."

"Is she okay?" Mako asked, concerned.

"In short: no. Sy underwent ten hours of surgery to repair the damage to her face. I asked the doctor, and she said that Sy would probably require a couple more over the next few months if she wanted to completely reverse the damage. In the meantime, they gave her something to knock her out and numb the pain. Seeing as how I can't exactly question her when she's unconscious, we'll have to put the case on hold for now, though based on what you've told me, the odds aren't really in her favor."

"We can't just wait around for her to wake up," Korra protested. "There are still people missing. Most of them are kids. There has to be something we can do."

"I'm not a miracle worker," stated Lin. "Unless you're 'spirit trace' nonsense wants to kick back in, we're out of luck. That being said, I do have some good news. Jackdaw is being sent to a maximum security prison inland, where he'll be kept in solitary confinement. The rest of his gang will be spread out to smaller institutions across the continent. Whatever kind of rebellion he was stirring up has died down. Also, Asami, we've charged Shang with grand theft, aggravated assault, and kidnapping. I pulled some strings and managed to push up his trial to next month. He won't be bothering you anymore."

"Thank goodness," Asami smiled. "That's one less headache to worry about."

"As for you, buddy," Lin added, turning to Mako, "I'm giving you six months to rest up, and then I expect you back on the force, good as new. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Mako nodded in approval.

"Good. I'm getting really sick of this hospital."

Korra abruptly stood up and, saying nothing, walked out of the room. The officers' eyes went to Asami, and with a disheartened sigh, the engineer followed her girlfriend out the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, worriedly. Korra refused to meet her gaze.

"I don't… feel right," said Korra.

"You haven't gotten any sleep in two days. Even you need to rest once in a while."

"It's not that." She struggled to put her feelings into words. "Asami, am I… am I a bad person?"

Asami was taken aback. "What? That's ridiculous. Of course, you're not a bad person."

"How do you know? I've always told myself that I use these gifts to help people, but look at what I've done. I tortured a man on the street. I gave Shang a concussion. I kicked Jackdaw's teeth out. Those aren't things that a good person does."

"First off, those guys probably deserved it," Asami reasoned. "And second of all: they were trying to hurt you. You were just defending yourself."

"Except I _wasn't_" Korra said thoroughly disgusted with herself. "They were beaten. The fight was over, and I hurt them anyway. I attacked them when they were powerless to defend themselves. And worse, I think I actually _wanted_ to hurt them. I wanted to see them suffer for what they did. It's like everything that I've ever learned, about compassion and responsibility, it's like it didn't even matter. All that mattered was how much pain I could cause them. I'm supposed to be better than that. I'm supposed to be more. But I wasn't."

Korra brushed something out of her eye. It was one of the few times Asami ever saw her cry. "What if that's really who I am. What if I'm just a monster who tricked herself into thinking she was something else?"

Instinctively, Asami pulled Korra into a hug, which the Avatar lacked the strength to return. "You're not a monster," she said, comfortingly. "That wasn't the real you. The Korra I know is the compassionate person I've ever met. She would never think those things were true, not even for a moment. You got carried away trying to protect the people you love. That's it. Everything is going to be okay."

Korra did not say a single word. Instead, she forced something into Asami's hand, and backed out of the hug. When Asami gazed down, she was stunned to see a hexagonal ring, carved with the ocean and stars and adorned with a dark blue gemstone.

"Why are you giving me this?" she asked, confused.

Korra spoke softly, her voice broken. Even though she knew the importance of her words, she could not find the ability to make eye contact.

"I… I don't think I can do this anymore."

"Do what?" Asami asked, feeling her heart begin to crack. "The wedding? Or us?"

Korra shrugged. "I don't know. But between everything that happened, and all of the problems everyone is dealing with now, I can't do it. Not a marriage or a relationship. I'm just so tired."

"So… you're dumping me?" Asami said, shocked that the words were leaving her mouth.

"No, no," Korra backtracked. "It's not like that. I don't want this to be the end of anything. I don't love you any less, either. It's that this case has taken a lot out of me. I just think I have to be alone for a little while. I need to find myself so that when you need me, I can fully commit the way I'm supposed to. Like a _wife_ should."

Asami closed the ring in her fist. She held it preciously for a few seconds, then swallowed her pride and shoved the ring into her pocket.

"Find yourself fast," she choked out.

Korra nodded. She flashed a small smile, not one of joy, but of understanding. She gave Asami another tight hug, and pecked her on the cheek before walking down the hall, back to her home. Asami let her gaze linger even after the Avatar turned the corner and disappeared from view. She respected Korra's wishes, even if she did not like them. She decided not to think of it as an end, but the start of something better. Something fresh. Something honest. Something pure. She guessed that was all she could really ask for. She popped back into the room to say goodbye to Mako and Lin, and then headed down her own path towards home. She missed her soft bed. She missed her friends at the mansion. As she hopped in her Satomobile and traveled home under the dark sky and gentle glow of the spirit portal, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Nostalgia for a time when there wasn't a care in the world, when it was only two young women, hand-in-hand, living their lives together. But it was best not to think of that. Next time, things would be better.

Next time.

* * *

Mako didn't get any sleep. The pain prevented him from getting too comfortable, and even so, his mind raced so much that it was impossible for him to relax. Sy was several rooms over; Bolin and Opal were several rooms after that. He had plenty of company, and yet felt utterly alone. The next few months would be like that. As much as he hated to admit it, the Hanzi Killer case gave him more bonus checks than he knew what to do with. The only problem was that there was no one to share it with.

That was, until the woman angrily and unexpectedly burst into his room. Though her dress was fashionable and sleek for the cold winter months ahead, there were only two things that Mako focused on: her skin that was pale as moonlight, and her seething fury.

"You son of a bitch," Serena growled. "You're responsible for this, aren't you?"

Mako babbled in surprise. "Mrs. Kyoriku! Wh-what are you doing here? Visiting hours are—"

"You know damn well what I'm doing here!" she screeched. "They think my daughter is a serial killer. She's trying to recover from a serious assault, and all _you people_ are doing is trying to set her up for a crime she didn't commit."

"Ma'am, you need to calm down," said Mako, struggling to regain his authority. "This has nothing to do with you."

"It has nothing to do with me? I'm her mother! I am not letting my family name be slandered by a bunch of idiotic cops and a load of flimsy, circumstantial evidence."

"Sy's fate isn't up to us," Mako stated. "The law dictates that we let the evidence decide."

"Well, _I_ dictate that you need to do some more research." Serena reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a long sheet of paper. She held it in front of his face, and forced him to read. In the bright hospital light, he clearly saw a long list of filled-in spaces and scribbly handwriting.

_Monty's Shoe and Shirt Parlor Application Form (w/ Interview)_

_Applicant Name: Hikaru Kyoriku_

_Age: 19_

_Prior Occupational Experience: None_

_Three Words to Describe You: Hardworking, Dedicated, Foot-lover_

Mako continued to read, failing to understand the significance. "What is this?"

"Your evidence," Serena explained. She jammed the paper in-between the folds of his cast so that it stood upright on its own, before stomping out of the room. "My daughter isn't the Hanzi Killer, detective. For her sake, you better find out who is."

She slammed the door behind her. Mako went back to the application, reading it all the way through. Even when he finished, he did not get the significance of a random person's job application. But then, a sentence came to him. It was something that he had heard many days ago while he wasn't bothering to listen. He was so focused on his brother at the time that he never even noticed what Sy was saying. Yet, it came to him, blaring loudly in the back of his mind, clear as day.

_"So… I applied for a job yesterday. I figure since I'm old enough, I might as well start working. It's a shoe store in the upper district."_

Eyes widening with terror, Mako checked the date the application was filled out. In the upper right-hand corner of the page, scribbled in ink, was the barely legible date and time. The application was filled out on a Saturday, at around five thirty in the afternoon. Mako recognized the time. Only sixteen minutes later, his brother's apartment would be blown to smithereens on the opposite side of town. It didn't take long for Mako to piece the information together.

Sy had an alibi.

* * *

Asami pulled up to her mansion when the sky was black. Her first order of business was to get some sleep, something she desperately needed. Tomorrow, she would figure out what to do with the rest of her life while she waited for Korra to fix herself. She walked up to the large doors, and knocked twice, waiting patiently with her hands at her side. A minute passed. Then another. Asami knocked on the door again, except this time, the door creaked open, revealing darkness behind it.

Asami cautiously stepped inside. They weren't supposed to leave the door unlocked. "Guys, I'm home! Where is everybody?"

She took another step forward, then felt something splash beneath her feet. She quickly flicked on the lights, and when the grand hall became illuminated, she gaped at the sticky, red substance caught to the bottom of her shoe. It was thick and odorous, and Asami couldn't help but notice the trail of it leading up the stairs, smeared over the carpet and floor. Like a moth to a flame, she followed it, morbidly curious, ever muscle tense. She walked through the blood, leaving behind delicate footprints in the murky fluid, until she traced it to the master bedroom, the same bed in which she hoped to reside. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the doorknob, and pushed inwards.

She clasped her hand over her mouth in horror. Seventeen bloody corpses lied on her bed, thrown into an unorganized pile of decomposing flesh and left with limbs flailing out in every direction. Some had their throats slit in wide gashes; others were torn open in the midsection, letting their organs sip out and glide over the silk sheets of her bed. She could not tell where the body of one ended and another began. The smell of the dead clogged her nose, gagging her, pounding at her skull. Her eyes watered as she saw the faces of her servants, young and old, permanently affixed into screams, their haunting final moments etched forever in time. On the wall above her bed was a single word, painted with the shared blood of those she held dear.

_Prideful_

Her heart pounded in her ears. She couldn't think straight. She had to get out. She had to tell Korra, or Mako, or Lin, or someone, anyone who would listen. She needed to run, run as fast as possible. Asami was so caught up in the nightmare before her that she failed to notice the footsteps approaching from behind.

Asami turned to leave, and a knife plunged into her stomach. She felt no pain from the intrusion. Her system was too shocked to register anything else. But she was fully aware of the metal as it dug deep into her guts, cutting up her insides. The sharp blade rested several inches inside of her, before quickly pulling out and thrusting in again. The second time, Asami felt everything. The agony tore straight through her body, overtaking every other function, every other feeling. When the knife retracted, she fell to her knees, shaking violently. She felt something lodged in her throat, and when she coughed, blood spurt out of her mouth. She reached towards the attacker, swatting weakly at the air, before collapsing onto her side. She placed a hand onto her stomach, and felt the warm liquid wash over as it left her body. With the last of her strength, she gazed up at the one who brought so much misery into her life, only to find a face she didn't recognize:

A young boy, with dark, shaggy hair and a grey school uniform, brandishing the bloody weapon, as well as a very wide, very ominous smile.

He kneeled by her side, watching the life drain out of her with a sly grin, a grin which he had no control over. He lined up his boot with her temple, and hovered it just above her head.

"So, Asami," he said darkly, "I thought I told you not tell anybody."

* * *

**Note: New chapters coming in October. Stay tuned.**


	34. Suffering

**Note: We're back early! That's a first! Sorry for lying about when the story was ending, but honestly, it's far more fun to keep things a surprise. Like how we're uploading a chapter a week earlier than we were supposed to. Aren't surprises great? Besides, we think you guys deserve it after suffering through that last cliffhanger. So, how far away are we from the story actually ending? No idea. Five or six chapters, maybe. Now that most of the subplots are taken care of , we can go full steam ahead with the case of the Hanzi Killer. Buckle up; it's going to be a rough ride from here on out. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Well, her story checks out," Lin said, disheartened. She took a seat on the bed by Mako's feet, holding the flimsy application sheet in her clammy grip. Korra, eyes red and heavy, sat in the corner, resting her face on her knuckles as she felt the pit in her stomach grow. She tapped her foot impatiently on the tiled floor; her skin crawled as she took in the hospital's musk and bathed beneath the endless white of the ceiling lights. Just an hour ago, she was curled up in her room, sleepless in the rays of the morning sun, and now, one phone call later, she was dragged back into her own personal hell.

"This can't be right," she muttered. "She has to be the Killer. There's no other options."

"I talked with the store owner herself," Lin stated. "She said that a chatty, pasty girl was interviewing for a position as a sales clerk when Bolin and Opal were attacked. Her alibi is solid as a rock."

Korra shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"To be fair, your case made _a lot_ of sense. Hell, even Jackdaw thought she did it. I kind of feel bad for the kid. She didn't deserve what happened to her."

"Maybe she did," Korra said, eyes lighting up.

"Korra, what are you talking about?" Mako asked, confused.

"Think about it. Who gave you that application form?"

"Her mom?"

"Exactly!" Korra raved. "Sy has connections to a major crime family. What if her mom blackmailed the store owner into giving a fake alibi? What if she took her place during the interview? They look exactly alike. Her family's wealth and resources would give her free reign of the city."

Lin sighed. "Korra, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? I think I'm the only _sane_ one here. We have a motivation and a method. I'm being completely rational."

"You are peddling a conspiracy theory," said Mako. "Just admit that Sy isn't the Hanzi Killer."

"Why are you so adamant to defend her?" Korra sneered, rising from her seat. "Even yesterday, you refused to admit that she could be guilty. What's wrong? Afraid to go hard on your girlfriend?"

"Sy being my girlfriend has nothing to do with it," Mako said defensively. "Your idea is circumstantial at best, and insane at worst. There's no evidence to support it. Sy is innocent."

"Sy is a _murderer_," Korra stated angrily. "That girl has you wrapped around her little finger. Can't you see how she's playing you? All of you? She was able to attack Bolin and Opal because they didn't think she was a threat, and now you two are making the same mistake all over again."

"Don't bring them into this," Mako snapped.

"Why not bring them into this?" Korra protested, as weeks of anger rose to a boiling point inside of her. "They're the example of what happens when the job doesn't get done. You were in charge of taking down the Hanzi Killer, and you failed. They have to suffer because of _your_ mistakes."

"That's not fair," said Mako, the words cutting deeper into his flesh than any knife could. "I did everything I could."

Korra's eyes burned. Something sharp churned in her throat, and before she could even think, the words had already dashed across her tongue, and escaped through her lips.

"Maybe if you did, you would still have a niece."

Silence permeated the room. Mako became white and still. Lin stared at Korra, green eyes widened with shock. At once, Korra realized the gravity of her words, and her features softened. A hand passed over her mouth, as if trying to catch the words and drag them back to where they came from. She slowly backed away, pressing her body against the cool wall.

"I'm… I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean that," she said. Her voice trembled, horrified at its own power. "It just… slipped out. I am so sorry-"

"Korra," Lin said with sudden forcefulness, rising to her feet, "what the hell is going on with you?"

The Avatar hugged herself, trying to physically hold her emotions in. She turned away, letting her brown hair conceal her face from their accusing glares. A long moment of quiet passed, before Korra eventually managed to choke out the truth.

"Asami and I broke up yesterday."

Lin did not know what she expected to hear, but it certainly was not what Korra had responded with. The woman's words lifted the cloud of shock that hovered overhead, and all she could mutter was a very confused, "What?" Mako seemed just as startled. His mouth hung open, and his eyebrows were raised high above the rest of his face.

"You and Asami broke up with each other?" he repeated. Korra nodded silently.

"Shit," Lin grumbled, suddenly noticing that Korra was not wearing her engagement ring. "I never thought that you two would split like that. You seemed so… happy."

"We didn't split. Not really," Korra clarified. "I just thought that it would be best to take a break for a little while. Things haven't really been the same with us lately. Every day, I've been feeling less and less like myself. The last thing I want is for her to be caught up in one of _my_ messes. Believe me: I have every intention of being with her. Someday. But right now, I need some time to be alone."

"Well, I hate to break it to you," said Lin, "but right now isn't exactly a good time for self-reflection. There's a serial killer on the loose, and my best detective just got taken out of action. I could really use your help taking him in."

Lin extended her good hand. She had not been on the best of terms with the Avatar over the past few days. In fact, for a few heart-wrenching hours, it seemed like Lin would be forced to arrest her. But despite their struggles, their arguments and their battles, they were friends, and had been for nearly a decade. They needed each other, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

However, Korra did not move a muscle. She merely looked the Police Chief in the eye, and coldly stated, "I'm not doing it."

Lin withdrew her hand, dumbfounded. "What do you mean you're not doing it?"

"I'm not helping you catch the Hanzi Killer. You're on your own."

"You've got to be kidding me," Lin grunted. "You've done nothing but complain about how I won't let you help for weeks, and now that I actually need you, you're turning me down?"

"I'm sorry," Korra said with sincerity. "I understand that I'm putting you in a tight spot, I really do. But I can't _think_ straight anymore. This case is wearing me down, and I don't want any part of it. I'm done. End of story."

"So I guess the Avatar only saves people when it's convenient for her?"

"You said it yourself: I have no right getting involved with police business. I'm sure you have a dozen other detectives who could handle the case far better than me."

"The Hanzi Killer isn't the only criminal in the city, despite how much it seems like that these days. I've got most of my staff working overtime keeping Republic City safe. Besides, I don't any of them like I trust you."

Korra was taken aback. Though she was getting better at it, it was a rare occasion when Lin Beifong said something truly personal. Still, Korra sighed, and shot her down.

"I really am sorry. I can't help you."

Lin said nothing. She merely grunted and walked back to Mako's bedside, thinking of ways to salvage the mess of an investigation she had gotten herself into. The detective let his gaze linger on Korra's withered body, empathic to her pain, yet disappointed with her convictions. Korra could not blame them. She knew she was a coward, a fraud. She had given up. The fire that kept her alive was now nothing more than scattered embers blinking out one-by-one. Tiredness clung to her like a child clutching its mother, and the autumn wind felt colder against her skin than ever before. The silence reclaimed its victims.

Suddenly, the phone near Mako's bed rang, and Korra nearly jumped out of her skin. They let it ring once, and then twice, so caught up in their own problems that they failed to recognize it. Its hollow voice echoed through the room like a phantom calling from another world. It took Lin a few seconds to come to and picked up the phone, listening intently.

"Uh, Korra," Lin said, confused, "it's for you."

An unexplainable sense of dread overtook her. How was the call meant for her? No one knew where she was. She hesitantly took the phone, and answered.

"This is Korra," she stated. A voice responded, and almost instantly, her bones rattled.

"You didn't come for me."

The words left her stunned. The young voice spoke in hushed tones. She could feel his whispers tickle the hairs in her ear, seep into her brain, and nest inside her thoughts.

"Masaki?" Korra gasped, gripping the phone with both hands.

"After all of your promises, all of the times you said you were going to be there, you didn't come for me."

Lin tried to ask what was going on, but Korra couldn't hear her.

"Masaki, where are you? What's going on?"

"You didn't come for me," Masaki said, harsher than before. "I get taken away, and what do you do? You spend the night with your fiancé, all while knowing all of the pain that I'm going through."

"What? No, that's not true," Korra cried. "I _tried_ to find you. I wanted to help, but—"

"Don't lie to me!" Masaki demanded. "I guess I just wasn't good enough to save. Why should the Avatar waste her time helping one of us poor, regular people, when she could be screwing around with pretty, little Asami Sato?"

"That's not true," Korra said desperately. "I swear that I tried to help. You have to believe me. You don't know how hard this has been on me."

"Korra, what is going on?" Lin pleaded. "Who are you talking to?"

Masaki groaned, unamused. "Typical Korra. Taking everyone's suffering and making it about yourself. Face it: you never cared about me. The only reason you bothered being kind to me was to convince yourself that you were more than what we both know you really are: a monster."

The guilt crashed into her like a tidal wave, breaking her down and casting its undertow to drag her into the sea. Weeks of pent-up emotions bubbled to the surface, and it took all of her willpower just to stop her voice from breaking.

"Masaki, where are you?" she asked. "Tell me where you are, and I can send help. We can end this."

"No, _we_ can't end this. Not yet," claimed the smiling boy. "That's why I called you. I wanted to let you know that I sent a package to you. It should be waiting on your doorstep. Consider it a gift. I'll talk to you soon."

"Masaki, wait—"

A dead beep wailed from the other end of the phone. Masaki was gone once again. Korra dashed out of the hospital room, and made a break to her car. Lin followed in hot pursuit.

"Korra, what is going on?" she yelled. "Where are you going?"

Korra didn't hear her through the sound of her heart pounding violently in her ears, threatening to burst out of her chest. Her feet carried her into her car, and slammed down on the gas without care. The city moved past her in a blur. Her hands trembled as they gripped the wheel. Masaki's words haunted her, repeating endlessly in her ears. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was finally driven. The fire inside was rekindled, if only briefly. She was determined to save him. She had to.

When she pulled up to the front of the Temple, Jinora was waiting anxiously. Lin pulled up behind her as Korra got out of her car and hurried towards the door.

"Hey, Korra," Jinora said, inquisitively, "somebody named 'Masaki' called earlier. They said that it was really important that he talked to you, and that you would know who he was."

"Yeah, I know," Korra said quickly. "Jinora, do you know if a package arrived for me today?"

The airbender perked up. "Well, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah. I didn't open it. Come see."

"Wait!" Lin shouted, running up to them. Jinora waved, a pleasantry that was not reciprocated. "Do you want to explain what the hell is going on?"

"I'll explain as we walk. We don't have time."

Jinora hastily led Korra through the Temple with a shrug. Lin followed closely.

"So, who was the other end of the line?" Lin questioned.

"It was Masaki Sugiyama. You know, that boy that I reported missing a few days ago. He said that he sent me something. He called it a gift."

"A gift? Korra, the kid's been kidnapped. How did he get access to a phone, let alone send you something through the mail?"

"I don't know," Korra admitted. "But it was definitely him. I'm sure of it."

"That doesn't make any sense. None of this lines up with what we already know. I don't have a good feeling about this…"

Jinora stopped in front of the door to Korra's room. As she opened it, the first thing that hit them was the smell. It was clear that Korra had not washed any of her sheets recently, nor had she bothered cleaning up. Her blanket and pillows were strewn about carelessly on her bed, and dirty laundry was tucked into the back corner. Aside from that, her room was mostly featureless, save for a few notable exceptions: a desk by her bedside, which contained a lamp, a clock, and a framed photo of the Avatar and her fiancé, a windowsill atop which were several flowers for decoration, a half-empty closet, and, most importantly, a small, cardboard box, no bigger than the size of her hand, resting in the center of the floor. The box had no shipping address. Instead, a white sheet of paper was taped to the top, with her name written in large, inky letters.

Korra picked up the box. It was relatively light in her grasp. She tore away the paper, and ripped apart the tape with her nail. Upon opening the box, she reached inside and pulled out its contents: a velvety, oval-shaped jewelry case, purple in color, kept close with a golden tab on its front.

"That's the gift?" Lin said, confused. "Some jewelry? Is it supposed to be a clue or something? Maybe a way to locate him?"

"I have no idea. Wait… hold on a second." Korra shook the case up and down. "This feels way too heavy to be jewelry…"

Korra fidgeted with the tab, yet the case would not open. Something was keeping the tab fused from the inside. As she struggled to open the case, Jinora quietly tapped Lin on the shoulder, and motioned for the officer to follow. Lin nodded unsurely, sneaking into the hall and closing the door behind them.

"Hey, do you know what's up with Korra lately?" Jinora asked, concerned.

"Apparently, she just broke up with Asami," Lin explained. Jinora shook her head.

"No, I know that. Korra already told me. But she's been acting really strange for the past week or so. It's starting to freak me out."

"I can't say for certain," Lin mused, "but I think the stress is getting to her. Seeing so many of her friends get injured, not being able to save them… that's gotta be taking its toll."

"That's what I'm worried about," Jinora stated. "When we were up on that airship, I saw Korra viciously attack that man. I have never seen her so angry before. I have a really bad feeling that something terrible is going to happen to her."

Lin did not get the chance to respond. All of a sudden, a bloodcurdling cry shot out from Korra's room. Lin burst back inside, while Jinora watched from afar. Korra had backed against the wall, cradling her knees on the floor. Both hands were wrapped tightly around her lips. Her wide eyes stared at the open case several feet away, too petrified to show any emotion. Lin approached the case, and upon looking inside, recoiled in fear. Jinora tried to enter the room, but Lin ordered her outside, refusing to let her see within the confines of Masaki's gift. On the inside lid, scribbled crudely with dark ink, was a simple message:

_Do I have your attention now?_

However, it was not the case's message that caused Lin's heart to stop beating in her chest, but rather its two contents: a dazzling, flawless blue engagement ring, and the blood-soaked finger that it belonged to.


	35. Masaki Sugiyama

**Note: Happy October. The current plan is to wrap the story up before the end of the year. What comes after that? Well, we're keeping it a secret. Maybe it's something. Maybe nothing. Don't worry about it. Worry about what you read in this next chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Five Hours Earlier**

The first thing Asami noticed was the darkness. As she groggily opened her eyes and took in her surroundings, there was a distinct lack of light. She could feel the room spinning around her, and she blinked repeatedly to refocus her vision. The memory of how or why she got there escaped her. She could not feel anything. Minutes passed as she sat in dazed numbness, searching for answers. The only sound was that of soft music in the background: a woman belting out a high note, yet barely audible against her ear.

Then, it hit her. The bodies. The blood. The boy. She snapped awake. She was sitting in a wooden chair, its legs bolted to the ground, their arms bounded together with rope. Her jacket and boots had been stripped off, leaving her in a dark, sleeveless undershirt and pants. She felt the cold, moist ground beneath her bare toes. Panicking, Asami struggled to free herself, only for the pain to hit her like a bus. It wasn't just the excruciating stabbing sensation in her gut, though it did feel as if an animal had clawed into her flesh; upon attempting to move, she discovered that what she assumed to be rope in the darkness was actually barbed wire. The concussion was only able to partially dull the agony as the sharp points drew playful figures into her skin, and she let out a tortured scream.

"So, your awake."

A dim light flipped on over her head. She heard footsteps behind her, and Masaki soon strolled forward, knife in hand and a dead smile on his face. How long had he been sitting there, watching her in the dark, preying on her like a vulture?

"I was worried that you weren't going to wake up. I thought that maybe I accidentally ruptured something important, or I kicked you in the head too hard. Luckily, I was able to stop the bleeding." He paused, taking in the soothing sounds of opera in the distance. "Don't you like opera? My mother took me to a performance the night before the accident. It was one of the best nights of my life."

Asami groaned, fighting back the pain pulsing in her veins as the faces of her dead friends swarmed her memory. "You… you're the Hanzi Killer. You murdered all of those people."

"Well, someone had to do it."

"But," Asami stammered, "you're just a kid."

Masaki laughed at the statement. "Of course, I am! How else could I have done it? Do you know how easy it is to get close to people when you're a kid? The moment someone sees me, they let their guards down. Nobody suspects me. The rich man, the teacher, the slob, your friends, your own servants? All I had to do was knock on the door, and they would answer."

On cue, Masaki's eyes began to well with tears, and his face contorted instantaneously into one of pure sadness. He tucked his hands behind his back and forced his head down, sniffling and sobbing. "Excuse me, sir? I… I lost my mom and dad. Can you help me?"

And then, all at once, the smile returned, and Masaki whipped out his knife and swung triumphantly at the air. "Then: bam! By the time they figure out what's going on, it's already too late. It doesn't even matter if they believe me or not. After all, who's heartless enough to turn down a crying child?"

"What about the bombings?" Asami asked, struggling to understand. "You killed a man while he was being guarded by police."

"The fat one planted the bombs. He was a cop; he knew how to handle security. Once he started ratting me out, I killed him. It wasn't hard. The cops only kept control of the perimeter. They didn't even bat an eye when they saw me walking through."

He remained calm as he talked of the many ways he gutted his victims. Aside from his brief demonstration, his toothy grin never faltered. He held the knife carelessly, like a toy. For all she knew, it was the same knife that he plunged into her, or perhaps even the same knife he used for all of his victims, passing it from body to body, organ to organ, blood to blood. He seemed fully intent on using it again.

"You hurt Lin," Asami said, horrified. "You attacked Opal. You sent Bolin into a coma!"

"No, I did not," claimed Masaki. "_You_ did that. If you just followed my instructions, and sent me the things you were supposed to, I wouldn't have had to hurt them. You left me no choice."

"Don't try to pass this off on me," Asami growled. "I'm not the one going around writing on the walls with blood."

"What? That? That was nothing. A gimmick. It was just a way to get people's attention."

"People's attention? You've murdered over _twenty_ people! Twenty human beings: snuffed out. Just like that. And for what? So you could play judge, jury and executioner with people you don't think deserve to live?"

Masaki snickered, twirling the blade in his hand. "You really think you're so noble, don't you? No wonder Korra likes you so much."

Asami tensed at the mention of her name. Masaki's smile widened.

"Yeah, Korra is really something else. I can see why she finds you so attractive. You're brave. You're caring. You're selfless. In other words, everything that she _isn't._ You balance each other out; the perfect girlfriends. That is, if she still _was_ your girlfriend."

Masaki reached into his pocket, and pulled out a blue engagement ring. Asami writhed in her seat, letting the barbs dig deeper into her arms as he examined it in the dim light.

"I know what it feels like: Looking up to a person so much, only for them to let you down in the end. I understand that pain. But I guess that's what life is: pain. And you're going to understand that very soon."

Asami shuddered, but she tried to keep the fear suppressed. The pain was damaging her ability to think straight.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. Her body quivered and her head ached, but the boy's words came through, clear as the day.

"Who knows?" he stated with a shrug. "Maybe I'm sick and tired of seeing people living their happy, ignorant lives and decided to do something about it. Maybe I'm trying to bring back justice in a world that doesn't seem to care about it. Maybe someone else is telling me to do it, and I'm just playing along. Maybe I'm doing it because I'm bored and there's nothing else to do."

He leaned in close, pressing the knife against Asami's silky cheek. He dropped his smile, and stared at her with two, unblinking orbs. "Or maybe, I love the feel of cold steel meeting human flesh. Maybe I love the snap a bone makes when it breaks in half, and the squish of their hearts being crushed in my palm, and the sound of their last breath as they beg for their life. Maybe the only way I can truly find happiness is to see every other human being suffer in the most painful ways imaginable."

He smirked. "You can pick whichever of those explanations sounds the scariest."

He pulled away, and Asami released the breath that she had not realized she was holding. Sweat pooled on her forehead. She was worn down, yet never felt so awake; her mind reverted to its primal instincts, heightening her senses, forcing adrenaline into her ever-thinning bloodstream, trying to think of a plan, any plan at all, to escape from the killer that taunted her. Masaki's words violated her. They crawled under her skin, and made it abundantly clear: she was going to die if she did not act quickly.

Asami struggled. She fought past the pain, dragging her arms toward her, trying to set them free. They were not bound tightly, something that Masaki surely hoped would be compensated for by the pain they caused. Slowly, her arms were being torn free, bloodied but functioning, shocking Masaki into action as his hostage broke free from his bounds.

Her left arm was almost loose when Masaki slammed down the knife on her finger. Her body tensed as the metal hit, cleaving into the bone just past her knuckle. All of the oxygen drained from her lungs, and her face became pale and sickly. She closed her eyes and turned away, screaming in silence as Masaki pulled the knife free from the worthless digit, still desperately clinging to the hand. The boy looked at the little thing, barely attached, and after a moment of hesitation, brought down the knife again, harder than before, cutting straight through the rest of the bone and muscle. Tears streamed down Asami, and she was overtaken by quiet sobs. The warm blood pumped out of her, kissing the ruptured nerve ends as it spilled onto the floor and pooled at her feet. She could not move. She could not think. Her voice and her spirit were gone. All she could do was keep her wet eyes shut, and attempt to breathe.

Masaki picked up the finger, which twitched upon contact as the last of its life drained out. "Brave. Just like I said." He raised the finger in the air, holding his prize apathetically. "See this? This is what happens if you try to escape. I have spent too long setting this up, and you are not going to ruin it by being _brave_. You are not the hero anymore. You aren't going to overcome the odds. You aren't going to save the day. You, Asami, are the _bait_. You are going to sit there and suffer until this is finished. And if you try to do anything like that again, I am going to do a lot more than cut off a finger. Am I clear?"

"You're… you're insane," Asami choked, barely able to speak. Her strength was gone. She wanted to pass out, to let the darkness take her. But the world was cruel, and kept her wide awake to feel every fresh scar form.

Masaki scoffed. "I'm not insane. I just have a score to settle." He walked away, and opened a door that was camouflaged into the wall by shadows. "I'm going to get some bandages. We wouldn't want you to bleed out. Not when there's still so much left to be done."

* * *

"His name is Masaki Sugiyama. He's twelve years old."

Two hours passed, and Korra had not moved. It did not matter that police swarmed over her room, labeling every scrap of dust as "evidence" and constantly butting in to ask her questions. She did not budge from her spot on the floor, and her face did not show any of her anguish. Lin stood over her, trying to get some information out of the Avatar while simultaneously keeping the flow of police and nervous airbending children in check. It took two hours before Korra was willing to speak; in the meantime, she had sent a squadron to investigate the Sato mansion, and had received word of the countless dead that were compiled into the master bedroom. Her detectives confirmed that Asami was nowhere to be found, and after studying the bodies of the victims, they also were able to confirm that none of the corpses appeared to have mutilating hands, meaning that the finger they possessed as "evidence" indeed belonged to their missing friend. Lin went back and forth on whether to tell the children what had occurred; on one hand, they deserved to know what happened, but they were still so young, and the last thing she wanted was to send them into a frenzy.

Yet, when Korra spoke those nine words, Lin's worries about the children disappeared, and were replaced with only the deep concern for the young woman in front of her.

"Do you really think that the kid did this to her?" Lin asked with neither faith nor doubt.

"It had to be," Korra said blankly. "He sent me that… he told me himself."

"Maybe someone was impersonating him?"

"No, I recognized his voice. Masaki did this. I'm sure of it."

"I'm only saying this because of how ridiculous it sounds," Lin stated. "I mean, he's a twelve-year-old. He couldn't have possibly done all of that alone, right? That's impossible."

"Is it? Jinora mastered airbending when she was twelve. Aang mastered all of the elements _and_ defeated Ozai when he was twelve. Your own mother created metalbending when she was twelve."

"Yes, but none of them ever pulled off a string of _bombings and murders_ while being hunted by the police. There has to be more to this than we're realizing."

"Does it matter?" Korra asked nonchalantly. "Asami's gone. He took her, and it's all my fault."

Lin rolled her eyes. "Don't say that."

"It is," Korra insisted. "You didn't hear how angry he was with me. I shouldn't have been so mean to him. If I was nicer, maybe he wouldn't have taken her."

"Stop beating yourself up over it," Lin said with sincerity. "If Masaki really is the Hanzi Killer, then he was plotting this out long before you ever wronged him. There was nothing you could have done."

Korra shook her head remorsefully. "I could have stayed with her. I could have protected her."

"Korra…"

Lin stopped herself. There were so many things that she wanted to say, but she knew that none of it would make a difference. Kora could not see things rationally. She was lost inside of her own world, swallowed whole by her guilt. Just as her legs refused to move, her mind refused to accept the truth. So, the Police Chief held her tongue, taking in her defeat.

She quickly changed topics. "Can you try locating her again by tracing her energy?"

"You know that doesn't work unless I'm calm."

Lin thought Korra looked rather calm, with an empty face and steady breathing, but she knew better than to bring it up.

"Then I guess the only option left is to find out everything we can about Masaki Sugiyama," Lin said with a nod. However, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. Surely, she thought, Masaki would realize that exposing himself to Korra would draw her attention. He had to know the consequences of his actions, so why did he do it? He had to have something still up his sleeve to avoid capture. But what would possibly be able to deflect her away like that?

The phone rang on the opposite end of the room while Lin was lost in thought. Korra suddenly came to life, bursting off of the ground and grabbing the phone before any of the cops could stop her.

"Hello?" she asked desperately.

"Did you get my package?"

At once, Korra became consumed by rage, and pressed the phone firmly against her ear. Her voice was hushed, yet carried the intensity of a cyclone.

"Where. Is. She?"

"So, you _did_ get my package. Good to know."

"I swear," Korra growled, "I swear if you so much as touch her, I'll—"

"You'll do what, exactly? Kill me?" Masaki taunted. "We both know that you don't kill, Korra. You think too highly of yourself for that. No, you won't do anything, Korra. You are going to sit there and listen as I touch her, and prod her, and hit her as many times as I want. Just like this…"

There was a moment of silence, and then, there was a great crack, followed by a distant, guttural scream that send shockwaves up and down Korra's spine.

"Asami!" she cried, clutching the phone as if she could reach through it and comfort her broken lover.

"Do you hear that?" shouted Masaki. "That is the sound of a human arm breaking after its been hit by a crowbar! I'm learning so much today. First, I found out that a finger has way more blood in it than I thought, and now this! Miss Satori is going to be so proud of me."

"Please, stop it," Korra begged. She could scarcely hear Asami's heavy sobs, each one of them a dagger being driven into her heart. "You've made your point, now let her go."

"Do you really want me to let her go?"

"Yes," Korra said shakily. "I'll do anything you want, just please, don't hurt her anymore."

Masaki snickered. "I was hoping you'd say that. You'll do anything to save her? Deal. Then let's play a little game."

"W-what are you talking about?" Korra asked nervously.

"I want to play some games with you, Korra," Masaki explained. "I've always liked games, but I never had any friends to play with. But now, I have you, and you said that you would play with me, didn't you? So let's play some games. Three, in fact. Three games over three days. All you have to do is win each game, and then I'll let Asami go and turn myself in. No catch. No tricks. No nothing. Follow my instructions, and this will all end without anyone else getting hurt. Do we have a deal?"

Korra paused to let the challenge sink in. Lin was calling her, pleading for information. In the corner of her eye, she could see the children spying from the doorway. It shocked her how little she cared for them at that moment.

"If I do this, do you promise that you won't hurt her?"

She could practically hear the boy's smile from the other end of the line. "Korra, Korra, Korra… you know I would never lie to you."

Korra took a deep breath, and let the words fall out of her.

"Fine. I'll play your games. But when this is over, you are going to pay. For everything."

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way," Masaki said happily. "For the first game, you need to go to Warehouse 15 on the East City Pier. Eight o'clock tonight. Don't bring anything. And please, come alone. If any police get within twenty blocks of that building, the girl dies. Talk to you soon."

And then he was gone. Korra gently placed the phone back on the receiver, and left the room without a sound, passing by a very distraught and confused Lin Beifong. The Chief of Police did not get any answers from the Avatar, only a cold glare. The only thing she saw—which she somehow did not notice before, despite staring right at her—were the darkened shadows cast across Korra's face.


	36. When the World Made Sense

**Note: Switching things up a little here. Originally, this chapter was meant to be part of a longer one, but it ended up running a decent length, and we didn't want to leave you guys without anything for a another week or two, so enjoy this fun little diversion before we return to everything being miserable.**

* * *

_Korra wanted to say that her relationship with Asami began perfectly. She wanted to say that the moment they stepped through the spirit portal, they confessed their love for each other, and kissed passionately as a crowd of spirits clapped and cheered. She wanted to say that they held hands every moment of every day, and could never break eye contact because they could not bear the pain of being apart. She wanted to say that their vacation was full of laughter and kisses, as a spark never that died pushed them into a remarkable new life together._

_However, Korra could not say that. She fully intended to confess her love to Asami, and for all she knew, Asami had intended that as well. But as they stood there in the spirit portal, hands clasped together, surrounded by deep purple flowers and enormous teal spikes emerging from the earth, and Korra opened her mouth to speak, she became distracted by her friend's green eyes and perfect smile, and somehow, the words came out as:_

"_So… here's the Spirit World!"_

_Korra laughed nervously, pulling away her hands and gestured broadly to the landscape in front of her. Asami seemed stunned for a moment, before smiling awkwardly and casting her gaze towards the flowers._

"_Wow," Asami said. "That's… that's incredible." Was there a hint of disappointment in her voice? Korra thought that she heard something, but perhaps it as merely wishful thinking. The nonbender made no mention of it as she knelt by the flowers, examining their odd shape and color. "Does it always look like this?"_

"_Most of the time," Korra said slyly. "In the Spirit World, everything is tied to emotions. As long as you're happy, the world will continue to work like this. Since I'm the Avatar, that goes double for me."_

"_Well then," Asami said with a smirk, "I guess I'll have to do my best to please you."_

_Korra's cheeks turned bright red, and she became very thankful that Asami was distracted by the flowers._

_They continued under the guidance of the stars without a destination in mind, with the Avatar leading the way. Asami spun on her axis as she walked, taking in every new sight and sound with awe. Korra could not help but smile whenever Asami gasped in wonder at the sight of a new form of flora, or a large, terrestrial formation in the distance, or the distant cry of a spirit unlike anything she had ever known. They walked for hours until night shifted into day, before coming to a rest beside an old, twisted tree, its aging bark splashed with reds and greens. Korra turned to face Asami, and she was surprised to find that the CEO had taken out a notepad sometime during their hike, and had written extensive notes._

"_It's kind of hard to take in the scenery when you're looking at a notepad," Korra said jokingly. Asami scoffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder._

"_No one has ever performed research here before," she claimed. "If I can't take anything back with me, I might as well make some good notes."_

"_This isn't about research. You're supposed to be enjoying yourself."_

"_This is how I enjoy myself."_

"_Man, you are such a nerd," Korra laughed._

"_Hey, you invited me!" Asami finished her work, and showed Korra her notes. Aside from the copious handwriting, Korra was shocked to discover intricate illustrations alongside each of Asami's findings._

"_When did you learn how to draw?" Korra asked, amazed._

"_I'm in engineer," Asami explained. "When you draw as many schematics as I do, you might as well make sure they look good."_

"_They're great! How did you even manage to do that thing with the shadows and the shape? It looks almost real."_

"_You mean cross-hatching?"_

"_Is that another way of saying incredible?"_

"_Oh, come on, Korra," Asami giggled. "Weren't you just telling me not to be focused on my notes?"_

"_No, I'm being serious," Korra said quietly, taken in by the visuals. "You are incredible. Owner of the biggest corporation in the world, martial arts expert, drag racing champion, talented inventor, and now artist extraordinaire; is there anything you can't do? You're making me feel a little jealous that I can only bend four elements."_

"_You're too much," Asami teased, playfully snatching back her notes._

_However, Korra found nothing playful about it. Was she really being too much? Was she making Asami uncomfortable? Or did Asami want her to keep going? The soft smile seemed to indicate that Asami was having fun, but girls were complicated, and the emotional spectrum was a vast, convoluted sea that she had little success navigating before. There was no way of telling whether she was too much or too little or somewhere in-between, and all of this confusion attacked Korra like a warm of arrows, and she felt like the ground would swallow her whole, and she had no idea what action to take until, there in that one moment—which felt like an eternity—she would take the safest course of action, which was, according to her brain, to tone it down a little._

"_Whatever."_

_After another few hours of sightseeing, they decided that it was time to rest. They both set up their respective sleeping bags on in a patch of grass on top of a hill overlooking a valley of greens and yellows. When Korra finished changing and lied down underneath the stars, she considered bringing up the whirlwind of different emotions she had been feeling for years, feelings that had only intensified since her return to Republic City. But when she rolled over, she learned that Asami was already asleep with her back turned, having been worn out from their lengthy journey. Korra did not mind. She knew that there was always the next day, and if not then, the day after that. And so she went to sleep contently, unaware that Asami was still wide awake._

_Yet, that moment would Korra yearned for had to wait, as the first thing she heard upon waking up was a scream._

"_Ko-Korra! I need some help!"_

_Korra opened her eyes to find a massive spirit looming over Asami, who shivered underneath the covers of her sleeping bag. Its body was round and plump, coated with tan fur, a black stripe running down its back, with a head like that of an ox, the horns pulled backwards towards the scalp and a pinched nose, and two feathery wings strapped to its hide. It sniffed Asami's hair, while the woman cowered beneath its bulk. Korra hurried to her feet, and jumped at the spirit, startling it._

"_Hey! Leave her alone," she ordered. It examined her, as if trying to recognize her face. When the creature did not yield, she shouted more forcefully. "By order of the Avatar, back away from her."_

_Its eyes lit up in recognition. The great spirit snorted, casted an insulted glare at Asami, and slowly trotted off, allowing the engineer to catch her breath. Korra helped her to her feet, both of them still in their sleepwear._

"_So," Asami wheezed, "that's a what a spirit is like."_

"_Some of them," Korra explained. "They don't usually like visitors."_

"_I can tell. Thank goodness you were there. At least it likes you."_

"_What can I say?" Korra smirked, flexing her bicep. "The spirits know who's boss around here."_

_Asami sighed, deeply amused by Korra's demonstration of power. For Korra, that was a victory. She proved to be charming and strong, and as a bonus, she saved Asami's life from a vicious, carnivorous spirit animal. She was racking up points at a fairly decent rate, and she could not have been happier. Still, she as so caught up in her own mild victory that she failed to notice that the spirit was still in earshot, and had not taken kindly to the Avatar's taunts. Korra did not notice the creature charging at them until it was too late, and when Korra went to step out of the way, she accidentally bumped into Asami, causing their legs to tangle up with each other as they fell backwards and tumbled down the hill into the valley below._

"_And don't come back!" screamed the spirit, bitter and tired._

_Though the grassy hill wasn't as hard as it could have been, and was quite shallow, their descent was not a pleasant one. They smashed into one another as they rolled twenty meters down the slope, before coming to a rough landing by a patch of navy, luminous flowers. Korra was flayed out on top of Asami, who looked up at the sky, breathless._

"_That sucked," she moaned. Korra adjusted their position so that they were face-to-face, their eyes inches apart._

"_Sorry about that," said Korra. "Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah," Asami said with a grunt. "I think so. You?"_

"_I'm fine. It'll take more than a hill to stop Avatar Korra."_

_Asami smiled through the pain. "Always the charmer, aren't you?"_

_Korra froze. Time crawled to a stop. Kora never noticed how perfect Asami's smile was before. Even without make-up, her face radiated beauty and glamour. Her dazed green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and her tattered hair was sprawled on the ground like water flowing from an oasis. Her bruised skin was softer than the finest silk, and her voice was more melodic than any song. Every drop of sweat carried her intoxicating aroma. Every heave of her chest was mesmerizing. Every sensation drove her mad. Korra wanted to capture that moment in a bottle and keep it close, carrying it with her everywhere she went. She wanted to stay there, just the two of them, forever._

_Korra could no longer control herself; before either of them realized what was happening, Korra leaned forward and pressed her lips to Asami's. It was the single greatest thing that Korra had ever felt. It was precisely as she imagined it: soft, sweet, and electrifying. Korra pulled away but kept their mouths close, testing the waters, looking into Asami's eyes and trying to sense if the other woman felt the exact same thing._

_But Asami was not smiling, nor did she give off any emotion. She simply lied there, stunned, two wide eyes looking back at the woman that—moments ago—she thought she knew._

_The joy drained quickly from Korra's face as she struggled to hastily get back to her feet. "I'm… I'm sorry," Korra said humbly, rushing back to the hill. "Come on. We should probably get moving again."_

_Asami sat up straight, and touched her fingers to her lips, expressionless. Whatever she was feeling, she kept it to herself. "Uh…" she stammered, unsure of what to say. "Okay, then." _

_Korra did not say anything as she got dressed and packed her bag. Kept her head low, walking along her unseen path, making sure to stay ahead of Asami so she would not have to look at her. Around her, the world became duller, like the life had been sucked out of it. She had never felt more stupid. Right when she thought everything was finally going away, she went ahead and ruined it. The residual taste remained plastered to her lips, having turned sour with guilt. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, to crawl into a hole and vanish from sight. She waited anxiously for Asami to speak up, but either out of spite or generosity, the Sato heiress kept her mouth sealed._

_For the rest of the day, they did not share more than a sentence or two, communicating only to decide upon which direction they needed to take. With every step, the sky darkened. They passed by a group of friendly spirits, but ignored them. Asami distracted herself with her notetaking, trying to stay productive. Eventually, night fell, and they came to a stop by a patch of enlarged spirit mushrooms, lighting up the dark with neon blues. Korra threw her bag underneath a mushroom, knelt down, and began to unpack, when Asami spoke from behind._

"_So… do you want to talk what happened?"_

_Korra continued to unpack, her eyes focused on her gear. "There's nothing to talk about."_

"_Really?" Asami asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "I think there are plenty of things to talk about."_

"_I was caught up in the moment," Korra stated, attempting more to convince herself rather than her friend. "My adrenaline was high. I didn't realize what I was doing."_

"_Do you really expect me to believe that?"_

"_Look, I made a mistake."_

"_A mistake?" Asami said, outraged. "You kissed me. How exactly does that qualify as a mistake?"_

_Korra growled and turned around, finally looking Asami in the eye. The engineer scowled in the bright glow of the mushroom, and was not in the mood to be messed with._

"_Do you really want to talk about this?" Korra complained. Asami threw her hands in the air._

"_Yes, I want to talk about this!" she proclaimed, frustrated. "You kiss me out of nowhere, and then you try to pretend that it didn't happen, like I'm somehow supposed to be okay with that? You literally have not said a single word to me all day, which is the biggest case of sending mixed signals that I have ever seen, and to be honest, it's kind of starting to annoy me that you think you can toy with my emotions like that."_

"_Mixed signals? What are you talking about? I'm not sending mixed signals."_

"_Please, Korra, I'm not dumb. You finally come back to Republic City, and the first thing you do is invite me to go on a vacation, just the two of us. Then, once you get me alone, you suddenly kiss me, before you give me the silent treatment, acting like I no longer exist. What exactly am I supposed to make of that?"_

"_I don't get why you are acting so defensive about this?"_

"_I'm defensive?" Asami asked in shock. "How am I the defensive one? You're the one who won't even admit that you did anything."_

_Korra groaned. "Alright! I kissed you! So what?"_

"_So what?" Asami repeated with disbelief. "I'm not sure how these things work in the Southern Water Tribe, but where I'm from, best friends usually don't start randomly kissing each other. And they certainly don't leave their friend in the dark for hours, without even caring about what the hell they're feeling."_

"_I do care about what you're feeling."_

"_Then why aren't you telling me what's going on?" Asami pleaded. Her features softened. "Korra, if there is something you want to tell me, then do it. I need you to be honest with me."_

_The pain in Asami's face was faint, but unmistakable. Korra took a deep breath, and cleared her head. "When I was poisoned, lying in my bed, barely able to walk, I had time to think about things. I felt like I had nowhere to turn, like I was trapped and couldn't escape. It was the darkest point of my life, and at the time, there didn't seem to be an end to it. I couldn't stand the idea of returning to my old life, knowing that I would never be the same. I wanted you all to remember like I as before, not what I had become. I tried to leave everyone behind, thinking that I could ties with everyone I knew, and they would be better off without me. And for a little while, I was okay with that._

"_But, every time I thought about leaving you behind, letting the memory of you go… I couldn't. You were there for me when nobody else was. You cared about me, and through all of the hardships, all of the therapy, all of the pain, I felt like you were there, right beside me, guiding me through it. And no matter where I went, or what I did, I could never let you go, because you refused to let me go; and when I finally saw you again, after all those years, you treated me like nothing had changed between us. It didn't matter that my powers weren't working, or that we hadn't spoken in months, or that I cut my hair. You didn't care. That meant more to me than you could ever realize. You're my best friend, Asami. You're the one thing that I can't live without."_

_A great weight had been lifted off of Korra's chest, and she waited for a response. Asami sighed, deep in thought._

"_What are you trying to say?" Asami asked softly._

"_I… I don't know," Korra admitted. "I'm not good with words. I don't really know how I feel, but what I do know, without any doubt, is that I want you as a part of my life. Whatever life has in store for us, I want you to be by my side." But then, Korra paused, and a shadow washed over her. "But… we can't. It's not right."_

"_Why not?" Asami suggested, a small smile dawning on her red lips. "Didn't it feel right?"_

"_It doesn't matter how it felt. I can't do this. Not with you. Not right now." Korra brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. "You just lost your father, and you aren't in the right state of mind. The last thing I should be doing is confusing you like this. I don't want to take advantage of you."_

"_Wait a second," Asami said, bemused. "You think that I'm attracted to you because I'm not thinking clearly?"_

_Korra did not need the words said aloud to understand how ridiculous they were. Regardless, she nodded. She watched as Asami's face morphed before her very eyes, shifting from confusion, to curiosity, to realization, and then finally to amusement, as she started snickering uncontrollably, covering her wide smile with her hand._

"_What's so funny?"_

_Asami sighed lovingly, and rested her cheek onto her palm. "Korra," she said giddily, "you do realize that I've been flirting with you for the past three years, right?"_

_Korra did not realize this._

"_What?"_

"_I mean, you didn't notice any of it? Flipping my hair over my shoulder? Biting my lip? All of those little hugs and compliments?"_

_Korra looked at her shoe, and then back at Asami. "I… I thought that was just how you normally acted around people."_

_Asami rolled her eyes, and knelt down beside Korra. She lightly touched Korra's cheek, and pressed their foreheads together, staring into the Avatar's eyes, glazed over with longing. Her other hand intertwined with Korra's fingers, and she squeezed gently._

"_Why do you have to be so damn perfect?" Asami whispered._

"_Heh heh," Korra laughed nervously. "What can I say? You rub off on me."_

"_Why, Korra?" Asami teased. "Are you trying to charm me again?"_

"_That depends?" said Korra, allowing herself to smile. "Is it working?"_

"_You tell me…"_

_Asami leaned forward, and Korra closed her eyes. She did not know how long the kiss lasted, but she did know that she never wanted to let go. She felt the glow from the mushroom intensify, and the grass became more vibrant beneath her feet, and the stars shone down on the two joined hearts brighter than ever before. _

* * *

Korra parked her car just outside of the warehouse. Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, and she took a deep breath. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out the engagement ring, its gemstone stained with dried blood. She clenched it in her hand, and closed her eyes, thinking back to before, when the world made sense. She never wanted to let go.

"Hang on, Asami," she said quietly, holding the ring close to her heart. "I'm coming for you."


	37. The First Game

**Note: These next few chapters will be a bit shorter in length. To make up for that, these next few chapters will be much more uncomfortable to read through. By this point, you should know what you're getting into. We warned you many chapters ago. See you next week. Enjoy.**

* * *

_Will You Sacrifice Your Pride?_

The message was scribbled onto the thick, metal doorway on the side of the warehouse, dripping a foul-smelling red liquid onto the cold pier in a still puddle. Korra's hand trembled as she reached for the handle. The time was eight o'clock, exactly as Masaki demanded. Whatever feelings of nervousness or terror faced her, it was too late to turn back. She tried to think of Asami, her body drenched in her own blood, her four-fingered hand reaching out, desperately trying to grab her, in order to stay motivated.

Pushing the door open, Korra was greeted by an intense stench that stabbed up through her nose and into her mind. The warehouse, intended for the storage of many large objects, had been abandoned long ago, due to a massive gap in the structure of the ceiling, through which moonlight poured through and offered the only source of illumination. A phone was attached to the wall directly next to the side entrance, and a large crate was placed on the opposite end of the room, but Korra's gaze was cast forward, onto the rotting corpse that lies peacefully in the natural light, it's arms crossed over its chest and eyes closed shut, as if it had been prepared for a burial. A gash was drawn about the throat, and from the nectar, a word was written directly over the body's head.

_Slothful_

Korra never saw a dead body before. She expected worse.

The phone rang nearby, and Korra picked it up without hesitation. Her voice was unshaken.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Wow. You actually showed up," Masaki said, surprise evident in his tone. "And thanks for coming alone. It shows that you have faith in me. I appreciate that."

"You said you wanted to play a game. I'm here. Let's get this over with."

"Do you see that guy lying over there?" Masaki quipped, casually ignoring her. "His name was... Baba, I think? Maybe it was Buba, or Bubba. I can't remember. All I do remember is that he was any neighbor, and I despised him. He was an unemployed, uncaring swine feeding off of the backs of hardworking people, including my parents. Always trying to borrow money. Always trying to find a way to avoid work. So, I put him to work making phone calls for me. Only when he finally found that working reaps reward did he outlive his usefulness."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Korra," Masaki explained, "he reminds me of you. You never had to work hard for anything, did you? The moment you were born, destiny picked you for greatness. It gave you people to watch over you and take care of you and teach you, and you spent most-if not all-of your life up on a pedestal, thinking that you're special. I hate special."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I mean, let's be honest here: I'm not the one with a giant statue of herself in the middle of the city."

Korra sighed. "I never asked for that."

"But you didn't turn away from it. That's okay, though. It's why you're here tonight. The first game is about bringing you back down to our level. Here is what I want you to do: Open up that crate over there. Inside, you will find a big cardboard sign. All I want you to do is take that sign, go into the busiest part of town, and hold it above your head until dawn. If someone asks you about the sign, do what they want. Sound easy enough?"

Korra wasn't buying it. It did sound easy. Far too easy for her liking. Suspicious, she dropped the phone, walked over to the crate, and yanked it open. Peering inside, she located the large sign, and read it in the dim moonlight. Immediately after she finished, a shudder ran up her spine, and she recoiled in disgust, clutching a hand over her mouth. That was what he wanted her to say? What he wanted her to do? Her skin crawled at the thought. He had to be joking if he really thought that she would willingly do that to herself. But she heard Masaki calling faintly over the phone, and in a moment of pure dread, realized that he was completely serious with his intentions.

She picked up the phone once again. "I can't do-"

"Yes, you can, and yes, you will," Masaki stated with certainty. "Because, if you don't do it, then I'll have to bash Asami's head against a wall until it bursts open, and I'm not sure how sturdy her skull is as of late. I have been hitting it a lot recently."

Korra shivered all over. Her hand balled into a fist. She couldn't believe what she was about to agree to do. But then she thought of Asami, and that lone, mutilated hand trembling in the darkness, and she choked down her pride.

"Fine. I'll do it."

She heard Masaki's tongue click as he grinned. "I'm glad to hear that. Oh, but before you go, there's one more thing I want you to do for me..."

* * *

Lin was in the middle of research when an officer stormed into her office and gave her the report. She hardly believed him, and it as only when he claimed that he received multiple calls on the matter did she throw on a heavy coat, hurry to a squad car, and race to Market Street, hoping to be proven wrong. Unlike the rest of the city, the street thrived with life twenty-four hours every day, serving as a central hub for many people who enjoyed staying up late in Republic City. When she arrived in the brightly-lit cultural haven, she scanned the crowd for her target. It only took a few moments to find her target, and when Lin locked her gaze, she became overwhelmed with shame and grief.

Korra stood off to the side, directly underneath the glow of a street lamp, naked as the day she was born. She shivered in the cold, autumn wind, and held a large cardboard sing above her head, inscribed with a very clear, distinct message:

_ I am a filthy slut. Please fuck me._

Lin approached Korra with caution, trying to keep her eyes directed at the floor. As she got closer, she could see the dozens of people ogling her as they walked by, taking in every inch of bare flesh. Korra noticed her, but said nothing, as if pretending not to exist. "So… either this has something to do with that phone call from earlier, or you have a really interesting way of spending your weekends."

"What are you doing here, Lin?" Korra asked quietly.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm supposed to be asking you that question."

"This has nothing to do with you.

"Technically, it does," Lin clarified. "Last time I checked, indecent exposure was a crime. So, either I arrest you, or you tell me what's going on."

Korra trembled, her brown skin covered with goosebumps. "Masaki is forcing me to go through these 'games' to prove I'm willing to save Asami. He said that if I don't play along, or I get you involved, he'll kill her, which is why you can't be here."

"Too late. He involved me when he tried to have me killed." Lin sighed, and took a seat on the curb to Korra's left. "So, how long does he want you to stand here?"

"Dawn."

"And that's it?"

Korra paused, as the filthy words slithered over her tongue. "He told me that if someone came up to me and asked to… you know… I would have to do it."

Lin grimaced. "Has anyone asked yet?"

"Not yet," Korra said with relief, "but... there was this one guy who just walked up to me and stared. He kept looking me up and down, like he was considering whether or not he wanted to _buy _me, and he had this horrible grin on his face while he was doing it. I've never felt so... used." She shuddered, forcing the putrid thoughts into the recesses of her mind.

"If you want," Lin suggested, "I can set up a police barricade around this area. No one would get anywhere near you."

"He said that he would kill her if you got involved," Korra said desperately. "You being here is pushing it enough. Please, just let me bear this for one night. For Asami's sake."

Lin groaned. "If you insist."

Korra pursed her lips. "Really? You're not going to fight me any further?"

"Korra, something tells me that once you decide to parade around Republic City without any clothes on, you're pretty much committed to the cause. I doubt anything I could say would change your mind. That being said, I'm not leaving you alone to assaulted by some creep in the middle of the night. Hopefully, if they notice that I'm with you, they'll decide to stay away, and then you could tell Masaki that no one ever came up to you."

Lin did not see the Avatar smile, but she couldn't help but notice the tension disappear from her shoulders. For a moment, it almost felt like things were normal.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Lin said with a shrug. Quickly, she thought of something to distract Korra from her current situation. "Now, do you want to hear what we've found on Masaki Sugiyama?"

"You actually found something?" Korra asked, surprised.

"We found everything," Lin stated. "Masaki Sugiyama was born nearly thirteen years ago in Republic City Central Hospital. His mother, Mai, was a surgeon, and his father, Tao-Li, was an engineer. Based on the kid's medical reports, it seems like you were right about that damage to his facial nerves; that grin is his face's resting position, and it hurts him to stop smiling, even for a few seconds. He used to live near the center of his city due to his family's wealth, but then, four years ago, he moved to the outskirts of town."

"Four years ago?" Korra asked. "Would that have anything to do with Kuvira's attack?"

"I was getting to that," said Lin. "See, this is where the details start getting a little shifty. We found plenty of documents before Kuvira's assault on the city, but afterwards, everything about the kid pretty much vanishes. The only thing we found about him were a few school reports. Aside from that, he might as well have dropped off the face of the Earth. What we _did_ manage to find were his parent's records, which weren't entirely useful."

"Did you manage to get in contact with them? Did they know what their son was doing?"

Lin bowed her head. "They're both dead."

Korra gasped. "What? When did they die?"

"His mother died from medical complications three months ago," Lin stated. "During Kuvira's attack on the city, we put out a mandatory evacuation for all civilians. Apparently, not everyone was so willing to leave their homes. Masaki and his parents were still inside their apartment when Kuvira destroyed the building. The kid and his father got lucky. The mom got caught in the debris, and ended up paralyzed from the neck down. Her medical expenses cost the family most of everything they had, and the father quit his job so that he could take care of her. Based on his repeated arrests for public drunkenness over the past several years, I don't think he took it very well."

"That's horrible," Korra said, saddened.

"Yeah, but here's where things get interesting. After a while, the dad attempted to get a job working as a housekeeper, before being fired due to a lack of work ethic. His employer? Kuzo Diaxini, the first victim of the Hanzi Killer. Afterwards, his life spiraled further, before two final arrests within weeks of each other: one for driving while under the influence of alcohol, and the other for soliciting prostitution from a woman named Nuo Krovo, or as you probably remember her-"

"Lust," Korra said bluntly. "And then, as luck would have it, the mother died a month later, from both a broken body and a broken heart."

"It's all starting to make sense now, isn't it?" said Lin. "The other victims fit in, too: Ami Satori was the aunt of a student who constantly bullied him. Bubba Nen was a neighbor who constantly drained their already-dwindling resources. Even Quan Irro, the other missing child… he's the child of one of the mother's colleagues, someone who cut off contact with the family after the mother's accident. The Hanzi Killer's targets weren't chosen randomly at all. They were all part of a kid's attempt to get revenge against the people who he blamed for ruining his life."

"Then why is he targeting me?" Korra asked. "I never even met him until a few weeks ago."

"Well, if I had to play detective," Lin said, cracking her knuckles, "I'd say he blamed you for everything. Think about it: every terrible thing in Masaki's life can be traced back to his mother getting caught in the destruction that Kuvira caused… destruction that _you_ failed to stop. Maybe—and this is just a hunch—if he can't take revenge against Kuvira, then you're the next best thing. He needs to find somebody to blame, and it just so happens that you fit the bill."

"Then he's insane," Korra said sternly. Lin snickered.

"He murdered twenty people and then started writing messages with their blood. I think being insane is a given."

"Good point," Korra noted. "Wait a second, what happened to his father? You said you found records of his death."

"Actually, we didn't find any records of his death at all. When we found his address, I sent a squad to investigate. They found the entire apartment in ruins, aside from a record player blaring opera music, a fully-stocked refrigerator, and the father's decomposing body on the couch. I have people running an autopsy on it, but from what I already know, it seems that Masaki slit his father's throat several days before the first official murder took place. The building's concrete walls blocked out the smell, and no one seemed to notice that a man disappeared overnight."

"Was there any writing?"

"Nothing. I doubt he was ever supposed to be found."

Korra nodded, deep in thought. She blew a stream of fire out of her mouth to stave off the ever-creeping coldness. The sound of bells filled the air. It was nine o'clock. She planted her bare feet into the sidewalk, and closed her eyes, blocking out the world around her. She refused to give Masaki the satisfaction of her defeat. She did not understand what she did to wrong him, but she was determined to put an end to his madness.

Nine hours left.

Two games to go.

And then, it would all be over.


	38. The Second Game

**Note: You may have noticed that his story has a new rating. The reason for that is very simple. As we were writing this chapter, we read it over, and thought, "Yeah, this is way too disturbing for a T-Rating." With that being said, try to enjoy this horrible nightmare.**

* * *

Korra never felt happier to see the sunlight. The moment the morning light rose above the horizon, Lin whisked her into her squad car, wrapped her in blankets, and took her back to Air Temple Island. She was freezing, but deep down, she was grateful. Things would have gotten far worse if Lin never arrived, and she knew how incredibly fortunate she was that a shiver was the worst of her problems. Yet, she also knew that she did not have time to relax. She doubted Masaki would be happy that his game failed, and she only hoped that her repercussions would not be as severe.

"Hey, Lin," Korra said softly. The Police Chief kept her eyes locked on the road. "Thank you. For everything."

"Don't mention it," Lin nodded. "Let's just hope it doesn't get any worse than this."

Lin's words were empty, but Korra believed them, whether because she was naïve, or those words were the only hope she had to hold onto.

Korra wasted little time rushing upon arriving home. She rushed into her room, past the confused and worried stares of the children, and slipped into her standard blue outfit. She breathed a sigh of relief as the clothing clung to her skin, embracing her with more warmth than any hug. Her room appeared normal, and for a moment, she forgot that just a day earlier, it swarmed with police as part of an active crime scene.

No sooner did she reflect on that did the phone ring. Her heart sank and she froze. All it took was a mere phone call to violate her protective space, and she hated it. But, she was powerless to do anything but answer the call. Against her better judgment, she did.

"Hi, Korra. It's Masaki," the child greeted her. He sounded no different than any young boy, speaking with the same innocence and quirkiness that would come from hours of rehearsing proper speaking etiquette with his parents. Even his wording showed no sign of the malice and contempt that consumed his heart. "Did you have a good time last night?"

"A good time?" Korra snapped. "You tried to have me raped, you sick son of a—"

"Patience, Korra," Masaki said in a lecturing tone. "There's no need to raise your voice. You did a good job last night. You won the game. Besides, it's not like anything actually happened to you… thanks to Beifong."

"How did you—"

"I checked in on you last night," Masaki explained casually. "Right after midnight. I'll come clean: I was considering failing you because of that, but really, I only had myself to blame. What I _should_ have done was tell you to go sleep with other men as part of your test. Instead, I put too much faith in people who didn't deserve it. So, I'll give you this once, but be warned: you aren't getting out unscathed next time."

"You don't have to do this," Korra pleaded. "You can end this right now without anyone else getting hurt. Please, think about it. Would your mother want you to do this?"

Masaki was caught off-guard. He stuttered nervously. "My… my mother? Wh-why would you—"

But then, he paused, and began to giggle.

"Oh, I get it!" he stated proudly. "You ran an investigation on me! That's pretty cool. What else did you find on me?"

"That you killed your father. That you killed anybody you thought wronged you."

"_Almost_ everybody."

"This isn't going to fix anything, Masaki," Korra warned. "I know that you've been through a lot, but believe me, taking your pain out on the world won't make the pain stop. All it does is cause more suffering. You are holding people hostage who have done _nothing_ to wrong you."

"They haven't. You have."

"What happened to your mother was an accident," Korra stated. "I'm sorry that I couldn't protect her, but I wasn't responsible for that. Kuvira was the one destroying the city. I was just trying to help."

"I don't hate you _specifically_, Korra," Masaki sighed. "Well, I sort of hate you. No, I hate the _idea_ of you. When I was younger, I used to look up to you Korra. You were my idol. To me, you were a hero. It didn't matter what you went up against; whether it was Equalists, Dark Spirits, or anything, you took them down like they were nothing. It didn't matter that you were born different than everybody else. Everyone loved you, and I did, too. In my head, you were perfect, the kind of selfless, compassionate person that I wanted to be like someday.

"It's amazing how _stupid_ I was back then, how easily I was tricked into thinking you were something you were not," Masaki said, suddenly growing bitter and violent. "It was only years after the accident, after my father threw his life away to drinking, after the constant abuse did I finally manage to see through it. You're not a hero. You don't care about any of us. Because you were born different, you had friends and teachers who cared about you from the day you were born. What did I get by being different? Bullying, harassment, and twisted glares from everyone I meet, smiling through it was if that will somehow hide the fact that I mean nothing. You don't know what's like to suffer, do you, Korra? You don't know what it's like to lose anything."

"That's not true," Korra said, hushed. "I know what loss feels like all too well."

"Really?" Masaki questioned harshly. "Tell me, what exactly have you lost? Your legs seem to be working fine to me. All your friends are still alive. Face it: You haven't experienced true loss before. You never had to watch the only person who ever loved you wither away right before your very eyes, knowing that there was _nothing_ you could do to save them."

Masaki's rage subsided. He sighed happily into the receiver. "But that's why I'm here: to right the wrongs. Which reminds me why I called. We still have more games to play together, and this next one should more than make up for the last one's disappointing conclusion. At six o'clock sharp, head inland toward the Spirit Portal. Just to the east, you'll find a small, abandoned house with a partial red roof. You'll know it's the right one because… well, you'll know it when you see it. Remember, six o'clock sharp. Oh, and Korra, be sure to come alone this time. Bye-bye."

The conversation ended before Korra could get in another word.

* * *

Mako watched closely as Sy shuffled uncomfortably in her bed. Her half-opened eyes stared blankly at the casts on his arms. He could not tell whether she was fully conscious or even aware of what was going on. An IV steadily dripped a strange, unknown fluid into her arm, keeping her sedated. A large, white bandage was plastered onto her reconstructed face, blocking the scars from her surgery. Her two blackened eyes contrasted sharply with the rest of her pale features, and her tongue occasionally darted between the gap in her mouth that used to house her two front teeth.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Ugggghhh," Sy responded drowsily.

"It's okay," he stated kindly. "The doctors said that your wounds were healing nicely. They even said that you might be able to breathe through your nose in a few weeks."

"Zashrealgood."

Mako cursed his immobile arms. He wished that he could reach down and hold her, but he was forced to stand there and only witness.

"I'm sorry that you got dragged into this. I should have done more to protect you."

"Dontbezohaaaard," Sy moaned. "Ishnotyourfault. Takeit…takeiteazzzzzy, bro."

"What did they put you on?"

"Drugz," Sy said with a pleased smile. "Gooooood drugz. Feelznize."

"I think I might ask them to turn down the dosage," Mako said, turning to leave.

"Hey… werezmymom?"

"She visited you while you were under," Mako explained. "She was a bit distraught."

"Heh. Zats her," Sy chuckled. She moaned again, and closed her eyes. "MIsherzough. Maybeimnotready…to leavehomeyet."

"I should give her a call. She'll want to know that you woke up," Mako said, trying to head out. Once again, Sy stopped him, faintly calling to him.

"Stoptryintaleaf. Itzlonelywizoutya."

"I'm not even supposed to be out of bed. Besides, you need rest."

"Idontneednozin," Sy proclaimed weakly. "Egzept some newteed."

"New teeth?"

"Dats it," Sy giggled, as the tiredness overtook her. "You…cantleaf. Nooneknowz…whatimsayin."

"I'll be back soon," Mako promised. Sy babbled something incomprehensible, before falling fast asleep. Mako hung his head. He wanted to go out and help Korra, but with his injuries, he was sidelined. That small, precious thing lying on the hospital bed was all he had. Everyone else he knew was either incapacitated, or off fighting the Hanzi Killer. The hospital was his whole world, and he hated it. All he could do was wait for life to pass him by. But, somehow, as Sy rested, he felt alright. He had someone to fight through the pain with. He supposed that was all he could ask for.

* * *

Usually, when Korra saw the Spirit Portal, she was flooded with pleasant memories. However, as darkness conquered the light, and she approached the massive beam of energy, she felt nothing but dread. She spotted the designated house with ease, its red roof being the only splash of color in the green-yellow fog. Yet, what caught her eye was not the color, but rather the presence of a small boy sitting on the dismantled porch. Korra pulled her car over in front of the broken house, and made her way to the splintered wooden steps leading to the front door. The child sat cross-legged in tattered clothes, his face held in his hands. Sobs wracked through his thin, malnourished frame. She recognized him as Quan Irro, one of the victims, having seen him in family photographs while talking to his parents shortly after his disappearance.

Korra knelt by his side, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are you alright?"

The boy did not respond.

"It's okay," she said sweetly. "I'm here to help you. Everything will be—"

The boy turned to look at her, and her blood ran cold. A razor blade pierced his eye, jutting sharply out of his face as blood spurted from the unclean wound. He tried to pull it out over and over, but the ruptured eyeball moved with it, bulging outwards with every tug. Korra quickly took his hands, and pushed them to his side, trying to stop any further damage. Surely, she figured, the dust and grime from his hands had already infected the wound, and his vision would not be saved, but she tried regardless. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she did not.

Korra hoisted Quan to his feet, and carried him to her car. His feet dragged along the floor, and his body was limp and limber, as if he were a ragdoll. She propped him up in the backseat, and buckled him in.

"Stay right here," she ordered, though she doubted he had the strength to run away. "I'll be right back to take you to the hospital. You'll be back with your parents soon, okay?"

The boy did not respond.

Korra marched back up the stairs and pushed in the front door. The bright glow of the Spirit Portal shined in through the broken roof, allowing Korra to see the remains of the room before her. The furniture was all but destroyed; a caved-in table, crushed chairs and a torn couch were the only clues that someone used to live there. The only piece of furniture left standing stood out distinctly from the rest, as Korra suspected that it was never part of the house until very recently. Before here was a long, rectangular, dark wooden table, resting squarely halfway between the roof and the open sky. On top of the table were three large, glass boxes, each with a slot on the front big enough to squeeze a hand through. On top of each box was a lever, a simple pully mechanism, and one unique item directed inwards.

The first box contained an active power drill, sharp enough to drill a perfect hole into either wood or steel. The second box contained the head of a sledgehammer, capable of crushing a cinderblock into dust. The third and final box contained a red-hot branding iron, used to mark cattle for the slaughter. Each hung from the roof of the box, dangling precariously over the table. On the floor in front of the contraption was a telephone, and a message scribbled in blood:

_Will You Sacrifice Your Body?_

It only took a moment for Korra to figure out what the game was, but just as the color drained from her skin, and the terror truly sunk in, the phone rang. Like a fool, she answered.

"Ready for Game Number Two?" Masaki asked.

"This is _insane_, Masaki," Korra said, panicked. "I'm not doing this. I can't. I—"

"You really should stop protesting. It's getting pretty boring now," Masaki said, ignoring her pleas. He went on with his clearly-prepared statements. "Korra, I'm sure that we both know a lot about scars. We both have them. Mine just happen to be a bit more visible than yours. But tonight, we fix that. What you see in front of you is a machine that creates scars. Pull a lever, and ta-da! The scar is created. Now, I've decided to change up the rules a bit, since you cheated during the last game. Here's what you're going to do: you are going to pick _two_ of the boxes, stick one of your hands in, and pull the lever. But, choose wisely, because whatever scar you decide _not_ to give to yourself… I'm going to give to Asami."

"Leave her out of this," Korra said with desperation. "She's innocent."

"No one in this world is innocent, Korra," said Masaki. "Especially when they're associated with you. Oh, and make sure to stay on the phone so I know which options you chose."

Korra didn't know what she would do. There did not seem to be any way to cheat the game. There was no water nearby she could heal with, and she was trapped in the most abandoned part of the city. She tried to use her airbending teachings to calm her racing heart, but she couldn't keep her head straight. She looked down at her hands, eyeing the tender flesh that she would be forced to destroy. The choice was simple: She either mutilated herself, or Asami died.

She studied the options in front of her. The question she asked herself wasn't what was least painful, but the opposite. Whatever she did not pick would be forced upon the woman she loved, so she needed to make the decision that would save Asami the most amount of lasting harm. None of the choices were particularly welcoming. She thought of the drill grinding into Asami's delicate hand, roaring as it ripped up the bones and tendons. She thought of the sledgehammer crashing downwards, flattening the meat like a pancake.

Still, her mind locked onto the branding iron. Upon further examination, she noticed that the iron itself was shaped into a word: _Bitch._ The other two weapons would cause pain for a couple of seconds. The pain and humiliation from the burn would never stop. Everywhere she went, Asami would have to carry that label with her. Everyone she ever shook hands with would see that scar and look down on her. It would never fade. It couldn't be healed. And, in that instant, Korra realized that she couldn't bear to subject Asami to it.

Korra felt like she was in a dream as she stuck her left hand into the glass box. She tucked phone beneath her ear and her shoulder, and grabbed the lever. The back of her hand was mere inches from the hot metal, and its intensity was unlike any fire she had ever faced.

"I'm using the iron." The words slipped out of her mouth effortlessly. Masaki waited in silence. She wondered if he was in the same room as Asami, forcing her to listen to the madness as it unfolded. Korra braced herself for the impact, took a deep breath, and counted to three.

The response was immediate. She pulled the lever, and instantaneously, the iron slammed into her hand, searing the hateful word into her skin. She fell to her knees, and screamed madly. Her first instinct was to pull away from the heat, but she held the lever down, keeping her hand pressed against the wooden table. The mark burned her deeply, charring the skin underneath. The raw flesh sizzled as a thin layer of smoke rose from the burning tissue. Her voice became as raw and tender as her skin, and as she released the lever, she let one final broken cry before falling onto the floor and clutching the fresh marking. The phone rocked back and forth on the floor next to her, and she heard Masaki's distant voice chuckle.

"Wow, I could hear that sizzling from here!" he said, satisfied. "It sounded just like you were cooking a steak!"

Tears flooded down Korra's cheeks. She stared in shock at her trembling hand, and the damaged, pink dermis that displayed itself in the light of the Spirit Portal. Korra couldn't think straight. Nothing existed other than the pain and the mark. Underneath the surface, she felt the Avatar State attempting to take hold, as her body went into a state of emergency. Somehow, someway, she managed to suppress the urge. There was still work to be done. She staggered to her feet against her will, and looked at the two remaining options. Neither looked appealing. The idea of being in any more pain was unfathomable. On one hand, the drill could cause severe nerve damage, eventually forcing the amputation of the hand. On the other hand, crushing the hand would render it completely unusable, as well as damage the fingers. Either way, she was sentencing Asami to some form of suffering. In the end, after many excruciating seconds, with her mind clouded by agony, Korra came to one simple conclusion: at least broken bones heal.

She stuck her remaining hand beneath the power drill, and without giving herself time to worry, pulled the lever. The tool whirred loudly as it plunged into her hand, shoving past the bones and muscle as if they weren't even there, and bursting through her palm. It churned the tendons and ligaments until they were a fine paste, and stirred around the chunks of bone effortless. Korra cried out for a moment before her strength failed her. She dropped to the floor, the lever sliding from her grip and freeing her the bloodied remains of her right hand. Bits of tissue remained stuck to the metal as it continued to drill in the empty air.

Korra could not feel her fingers. In fact, she could not feel anything. Pain removed her from her senses, and dragged her into unconsciousness. The last thing she heard before she passed out in the dark was Masaki laughing in delight over the phone.


	39. The Third Game

**Note: A bit late this week, but we're almost there. The Third Game is upon us. Enjoy if you can.**

* * *

"Come on, Korra. Wake up."

When Korra opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Lin standing over her, breathing a sigh of relief. It was the most rest she had gotten in days, yet she felt terribly ill and frail. She was back in that damn hospital, with its horrid, pristine white walls and annoyingly-symmetrical tiled ceiling. She tried to sit up, but Lin placed her hand on her shoulder, and pressed her into the mattress.

"Easy there, kid. No need to rush it."

Korra moved to shove Lin away, when she noticed that her hands had been wrapped tightly in bandages. Her mind was blank; all she could remember was the worst pain she had been in her entire life.

"What happened to me?"

"You were an idiot, that's what happened," Lin said, frustrated. "When we finally found you, you were passed out in a pool of blood. You're lucky that boy was there to call us. He probably saved your life."

"The boy?" Korra asked worriedly. "Is he alright?"

"He's recuperating," Lin said carefully. "His parents are understandably upset. But at least he's alive. At this point, it's better than most."

Korra clenched her hand into a fist. Though her fingers dug sharply into her wound, she barely felt them.

"Is it bad that I can't feel anything?"

"It could have been worse. Much worse," Lin stated. "The healers did what they could. The burn wasn't too bad. It'll leave a nasty scar, but you can cover it up pretty easily. But the other one… they said something about 'massive structural damage'. Aside from the fact that the most of the tendons and muscles have been severely torn up, you managed to puncture your ulnar artery. Being numb in a few fingers for the rest of your life is the best-case scenario. Frankly, it's a miracle that you didn't lose a hand."

Korra groaned, rolling her head in the soft pillow. "I didn't think it would be that bad."

"Well, that's what happens when you stick a _power drill _in your hand," Lin said forcefully. "Seriously, what the fuck were you thinking? You could have died."

"What I'm going through is nothing compared to what he's doing to her," Korra stated coldly.

"That doesn't mean you should start torturing yourself," Lin said defensively.

"It's almost over. There's only one game left."

"Korra, you can't go through with this," Lin begged. "First, you nearly get assaulted by every creep in Republic City, and then you start cutting into yourself like piece of meat. These games are destroying you. You have to stop this."

"I'll stop once Asami is safe."

"Asami wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

"Asami was always too nice for her own good," Korra added, darkly.

"This is absurd," said Lin. "Honestly, what makes you think that Masaki is even going to uphold his end of the deal?"

"Because I don't really have a _choice_, do I?" Korra said with sudden viciousness. "Maybe he is going to kill her. Maybe this is all a giant waste of time. But all I know for certain is that he is going to kill her if I don't do something."

"Then do something useful, and tell us what's going on," Lin said. "Stop trying to do this all yourself, and let us help you." The irony of her request was not lost on either of them, but Lin was brutally sincere. She seemed genuinely hurt as she pleaded her case to the Avatar, not to the point of tears, but enough that, for the first time, she appeared truly vulnerable. How much did it hurt her, knowing what the people who could only be considered her family were going through?

But then, as if on cue, the phone rang, and her mind went elsewhere. Korra could not even react before Lin stormed angrily over to the wall, and yanked the phone off its receiver.

"This is Chief Lin Beifong," she stated with authority. "What do you want?"

Korra couldn't hear the voice on the end of the line, but judging how Lin shuddered and gritted her teeth at its sound, she had a very good idea who was calling.

"No, you can't speak with her," Lin instructed. "If you have something to say, then you're going to have to tell me."

"Lin, please," Korra begged. "Just give me the phone."

"Not happening," Lin responded with a growl. "Listen, Masaki Sugiyama. This game of yours ends right now. You are going to stop what you're doing, release the two hostages, and turn yourself in. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Korra strained her ears, but it was in vain. All she could do was watch as Lin's face morphed before her eyes, changing from rage, to defiance, to resentment, and then finally, to bitter acceptance. She held out the phone, and sighed, her head bowed in shame.

"Take the damn phone."

Korra forced herself onto her feet, and slogged over to the phone. Her broken hand moved automatically, going through the motions to which she had become so accustomed.

"What do you need me to do?" Korra asked, her voice lacking any emotion.

"Wow, that was quick," Masaki noted. "No protests? No begging? I'm impressed. I didn't think you would become so... willing, to put it lightly. All it took was a power drill to keep you in line."

"Just tell me where the last game is."

"Patience, Korra. Just think: In less than twenty-four hours, this will all be over. No more Hanzi Killer. No more deaths, and no more suffering. Can you feel it, the grand sense of finality to it all? I can. It's weird. I've been doing this for so long that I don't know what I'd do without it. What am I going to do after this is all finished? What will you do? Aw well. Such is life, I suppose. Are you ready to end this?"

Korra answered without hesitation. "Yes."

"Then all you have to do is go back to the warehouse where the first game took place at exactly four o'clock in the afternoon. One game to go, and believe me… this one's to _die_ for."

Korra snapped to attention. What did he want with her? He hung up the phone before she had the chance to ask. Yet, something felt off. Deep in her stomach, something horrible began to churn, and she felt a cold shadow wash over her, as if she had been touched by an otherworldly presence. A voice called to her in the back of her mind, a dark, violated piece of herself that she did not know existed. Its slithering tongue spoke directly to her, teasing her.

"_You know exactly what he wants,"_ it taunted her. _"You don't want to accept it, but you know it's right, don't you, Korra?"_

"Korra? Hey, Korra!" Lin called worriedly. Korra snapped to attention, having stood motionless for seconds with the phone clutched tightly in her sensationless fingers. "What did he tell you?"

Korra opened her mouth to speak, but she could not believe the words that were forming inside of it.

"I… I think…" Korra said shakily, horror in every word, "I think that he's going to make me kill myself."

"What?" Lin said in disbelief.

"That's the third game," Korra said, growing more confident in her assertion. "The last two games were about sacrifice, what I would give up to save Asami. First, I had to give up my pride, and then my body. Every game escalates, until finally, I have to give up my life in exchange for hers. That's how he gets his revenge against me. He knows that he could never kill me on his own—he's nowhere near strong enough to do that—so he's making me do it myself."

"That can't be right." Lin shook her head, staunch in her refusal. "You must have misunderstood him. He could never trust you to do that. It'd be too much of a gamble."

"Maybe it wouldn't be."

Mako stood in the doorway, arms stuck in their casts, his sullen face transfixed on Korra's bandages. Lin groaned.

"Jeez, Mako. I forgot you were waiting outside. Sorry about that."

"Don't mention it," Mako said solemnly. "Besides, I think we have more important things to be worried about."

"What did you mean by that?" asked Korra. "Do you really think he's ask that of me?"

"Well, its's not impossible," Mako claimed. "Chief, I'm not sure if you remember this, but we've seen something this before in the investigation. Right after Kuzo's death, his son walked into the middle of the street, and killed himself, holding a threatening letter in his hand. I always knew something was wrong with that, but if Korra is correct, and that is Masaki's goal, then it all makes sense. That man didn't want to die. I saw it with my own two eyes. He marched to his death become someone forced him to. He was a trial for this moment. Masaki was testing to find out whether someone would be willing to kill themselves for somebody they loved, and it looks like he got the answer he was hoping for."

"Dammit," Lin cursed, pacing around the room, trying to think of some way out of the twisted nightmare in which she found herself trapped. "You're saying that there is a possibility that's what he's after?"

Mako nodded. Lin resisted the urge to punch straight through the wall. Korra sat down on the bed, utterly defeated. The truth was starting to fully set in. It did not matter if she humiliated herself in public, or permanently scarred her hands. The truth was that she was living off borrowed time. Chances were that she would never get the wedding of her dreams. She would never get to have children. It was likely that she was never going to see Asami again. And as that truth plunged into her chest like a steel dagger, the last of her emotions drained out of her, seeping like blood from an open wound.

"Okay, Korra," Lin said, trying to regain her composure, "we need to think very carefully about what we are going to do."

"Think carefully?" Korra asked, stunned. "What are you talking about? _Of course_, I'm going through with it."

"No, you are not," Lin ordered sternly, slamming her foot down. "You are going to stay right here in this hospital bed and wait until we figure out how to solve this."

"There isn't any time," Korra said, her voice raw from lack of rest. "He is going to _kill_ her if I don't do what he says."

"You don't know that," Lin repeated passionately. "For all you know, he's going to kill her regardless of what you do. The last thing we need is for both of you to end up dead for nothing."

"So what am I supposed to do? Do nothing and let her die?"

"I'm saying you should think about this. If you go through with this, the only thing we know for certain is that you die. That is something that I am not going to let happen under _any_ circumstances. If the option is between saving one of you—"

Lin stopped herself, but she had already said too much. Korra stared at her, wide-eyed, visibly shaking with anger and disbelief.

"You…" Korra muttered, petrified. "You're actually talking about sacrificing Asami to save me, aren't you?"

"That's not what I meant."

"That's _precisely_ what you meant," Korra declared. "You think that her life isn't as valuable as mine."

"I'm being practical," Lin stated, seething with contempt for herself. "We are seriously talking about the possibility of having to choose which one of you to save. That is something far beyond anything else we've ever had to deal with. When you're in my line of work, you can't your emotions get in the way of logic. So, we should think _clearly_. We cannot trust that boy to keep up his end of the deal. He is unpredictable, and worse than that, he is cruel. I don't see anything that makes me think he can be trusted. There is a very good chance that the moment you die, he will kill Asami regardless, and go into hiding. You may not like it, but that's the reality of the situation. Therefore, based on that reality, I cannot approve of you doing anything without being able to guarantee Asami's safety. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

Korra groaned, and turned towards Mako, who had tried his best to remain silent.

"What about you?" she asked intensely. "Do you think Asami deserves to die?"

Mako sighed. "Korra, you know how much I care about Asami. We all do. But… being blackmailed into suicide? I don't think you should go through with this."

"Are you insane?" Korra shouted. "This is Asami we're talking about! She's our friend, and we need to help her!"

"You're my friend, too!" Mako shouted back. "I don't want _anyone_ to die! But if you die, then you're giving Masaki exactly what he wants."

"I don't care about what he wants!" Korra proclaimed, rising to her feet. "Asami is in danger because of me. She got her fucking _finger_ cut off because of _me_. I refuse to let her suffer anymore because of something that I did. She is my fucking _everything_. And if I have the chance to save her life, I'm going to do it, no matter what the cost may be. If you have a problem with that—both of you—then you can just wait around like a bunch of cowards, knowing that the death of an innocent human being lies squarely on _you_."

"Korra, you aren't thinking straight," Lin said desperately.

Korra turned towards her, narrowing her bloodshot eyes. "I'm thinking perfectly fine. Now, get out of my room. I need some time alone."

"Korra—"

"Get out!" Korra demanded.

Mako and Lin paused for a moment and exchanged nervous glances, but eventually, they did leave as requested. Korra shut the door forcefully behind them, and then crawled into her bed. The shadow of death still held her, forming a thick coating over her skin. She was to tired that she could not sleep. She had never felt so crushingly alone before. She had no idea what she was going to do. Part of wanted to cry; another wanted to scream. However, another voice spoke to her, calm and collected, speaking buried from within her head.

"_Korra, you can't do this."_

Korra sprang back to life. The voice that spoke was not her own. Instead, it was an entity entirely separate from her, a being that spoke with the authority and wisdom from living for millennia. It was a voice that she had not heard from in years, which only spoke whenever a matter serious enough to threaten its existence arose. As it echoed endlessly in her head, Korra gripped the sheets on the bed, waiting anxiously for what it had to say next.

"What are you doing here, Raava?" Korra asked.

"_I am a part of you,"_ replied the powerful spirit. _"I hear everything you hear. I feel everything you feel. I do not like what I find."_

"I don't need your opinion," Korra retorted. "This is my decision to make."

"_No, it is not. As long as we share a connection, no decision is ever yours to make alone. It is imperative that you listen to what I am about to tell you, and listen well: You cannot—no matter what occurs—sacrifice yourself for that woman."_

"Asami is not just a woman," Korra said spitefully. "You feel what I feel, right? Then you know how much I care about her."

"_I know that you think you love her. I also understand that human emotions are fragile and complicated. You cannot afford to think about matters such as life and death with such subjectivity." _

"You sound like Lin."

"_You would be wise to listen to your elder. She can see the bigger picture."_

"And what is the bigger picture?" asked Korra, taking offense. "The way I see it, I have a duty to save as many people as possible. That's what being the Avatar means. If someone is in trouble, it's my responsibility to rescue them, regardless of the consequences."

"_Unless saving one life puts others at risk,"_ Raava corrected. _"If you die, then the Avatar cycle will start anew. The world will be left without protection until the new Avatar can master the four elements, which could take decades. Without the Avatar, everyone, including Asami, will be in grave danger."_

"There isn't any danger. We have more people protecting us than we've ever had in the past. Plus, we're in times of peace."

"_Peace never lasts. The one simple truth that I have learned over ten thousand years is that darkness will always find a way to fight back against the light. The last several global conflicts occurred over the course of a few years. Kuvira rose to power within months. The Red Lotus created mass anarchy in a few weeks. It only took a single night for Fire Lord Sozin to drive the airbenders to near-extinction. We cannot risk leaving the world defenseless until a new Avatar is ready. You have a duty to protect creatures. You must not throw that away for one measly human."_

"Don't talk about her like that!" Korra sneered. "She is Asami Sato. I love her. I don't care about the rest of the world. Nothing else matters if I can't have her."

"_You may not like what I have to say, but deep down, you know I am correct. Saving Asami is too much of a risk. The best thing to do is—"_

"Don't say it," Korra begged, distraught. "Please, just don't say it. I can't… I can't do this… without her."

"_Yes, you can,"_ Raava assured her. _"I know how hard this must be for you, but you have to believe me when I tell you that everything will be okay. Her death will not be the end of the world."_

"My life is nothing without her…"

"_Then, you will create a new life," _Raava said with surprising tenderness._ "You forget that I have been studying human behavior all my life. They are fascinated with the fabricated concept of 'true love'. They believe that when a loved one dies, it is somehow the end of everything they know. Yet, as proven time and time again, they are capable of much more. I have witnessed it countless times, many in past Avatars. Yes, you will struggle with her passing. You will mourn her. You will grieve. But, with the passage of time, you will recover. It may take months, or even years, but eventually, you will accept what has happened, and you will move on. You will find somebody new, somebody who will make you feel as special as she did, perhaps even more so. You will love that person with everything you have, and Asami will fade from your mind, until she is nothing more than a fragment of an older, forgotten, less-perfect life. Nothing more. It will be difficult for you, yes, but I know that, ultimately, you will move on."_

"I don't want to move on," Korra said weakly, unable to find the strength to fight back. "I want her."

"_We don't always get what we want," _Raava said knowingly_. "Korra, despite what I said earlier, your fate is in your hands. In the end, I cannot stop you from going through with this. But I beg you to reconsider what I feel would be a terrible mistake. Asami would understand that the world needs you more than she does. Please, don't do something you're going to regret."_

Korra thought about her answer very carefully. "Raava," she said slowly, "I want you to know… I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"_That almost sounds like a goodbye,"_ Raava added somberly.

Korra threw her head into her pillow, and stared emptily at the familiar tiled ceiling.

"It is."

* * *

Korra walked out of the hospital with ease. The nurses did not dare try to stop her. Lin had left to attend to police matters. Mako had been relegated to his room. She considered stopping in to say her farewell, but thought better of it. If he knew what she was up to, he might have tried to stop her. Looking at him would have been too painful, anyway. She pushed open the main entrance, and began to walk, slow and steady, to the pier.

The hike took over an hour, but she mentally adjusted for the time beforehand. Still, she was not in any rush. She thought of many things was she walked casually to the final game, her bandaged hands stuffed gently in her pockets. She thought of the small birthday party her mother threw for her when she was eight, the taste of moist cake smacking against her lips, the mystery behind each unopened present, the buried loneliness of knowing that all the other guests were White Lotus operatives. She thought of the first time she rode Naga in the snow, the icy chill of the wind on her back, the hardened leather gripped tightly in her fingers, the soft fur underneath her as she raced across he frozen tundra. She thought of losing her innocence to Asami beneath the rush of a waterfall, the warm touch of smooth flesh against smooth flesh, the delighted moans echoing in the darkness, the nervous laughs and intense pleasure following every loving act of ecstasy.

Korra thought of the legacy she left behind. She thought of the re-opening of the Spirit Portals, a dawning of a new age where spirits and humans could travel across worlds as they pleased. She thought of restoring balance to the Earth Kingdom, of defeating the Red Lotus, of vanquishing Amon, of all her triumphs and victories. She thought of her parent's smiling faces, the warmth of her bed, the company of her friends, the joy of laughter, the agony of defeat, the harshness of life, and how she would never get to experience any of them ever again.

Korra never panicked. She was not afraid. In fact, she barely felt a thing as she approached the warehouse. She felt as if she was watching herself move forward from afar, out of her own control. She was alone with nothing but the dying autumn sun, and her own, distant thoughts. As the day turned to evening, she walked up the side door of the warehouse, and read the new message scribbled on its frame.

_Will You Sacrifice Yourself?_

She gently pushed open the door, and stepped inside. The warehouse was pitch black, and she could not see more than two feet in front of her face. To her side, a phone rang in the darkness. Using her memory, she located it, and answered.

"Are you ready for this, Korra?" Masaki asked eagerly.

Korra closed her eyes, and nodded with acceptance. "I'm ready, Masaki. I'm ready to die."

"I hoped you would feel that way, Korra," he said happily. But then, he paused, and let loose a wild grin. "The thing is, I've been thinking a lot over the past few days, and I realized… that wouldn't be very exciting now, would it?"

Suddenly, lights flooded the room from above, temporarily blinding her. When Korra opened her eyes, she stared in shock at the center of the room. A massive glass tank stood before her, three meters tall, with two large, grey pipes connected to it from either side, wrapping around the walls of the warehouse and tunneling through the walls into the waterway. Lee Satori, the twelve-year-old son of a former Equalist, sat in the middle of the tank, a heavy chain wrapped around his ankle. Water rapidly flooded from the pipes and into the tank, quickly rising around him. As Korra watched on in terror, Masaki laughed gleefully.

"This is the final game, Korra. Your final test to save the woman you love. All you have to do to win," he proclaimed, "is watch the boy drown."


	40. Choice

**Note: Almost at the end now. After this, two more chapters, and an epilogue (ending at Chapter 45). We should also note that this time, we are actually ending the story when we say we are. Trust us: You won't want to miss it. Anyway, have you enjoyed this twisted tale? Or have we made you want to rip our throats out? Let us know. Regardless, enjoy.**

* * *

The water rushed steadily into the glass tank. Lee pounded violently against the glass, shouting at Korra to act, but his voice was muted. The Avatar watched on, motionless, as the water reached his knees. He had about two minutes before his head sank beneath, and then he would begin to drown. From that point, she would have another four minutes to save him. She knew she could do it easily; with a pass of her hand, she could shatter the glass and force the water to drain from the tank. She could save his life effortlessly, yet she did not move a muscle.

"Let him die, and I'll spare her," Masaki instructed. Korra hung onto every word with care.

"That's not fair," she said, her hands trembling. "I can't make that choice—"

"Yes, you can," Masaki said confidently. "It's very easy. If you don't want me to save Asami, then you just have to sit back and do nothing. Close your eyes, cover your ears, and it'll be over before you know it. Think about it like this: You don't even know this kid. He's worthless! That's not too hard of a sacrifice now, is it?"

"Please, we can talk about this," Korra begged. "He hasn't done anything wrong. If you really want to kill someone, kill me. I deserve to die, not him."

Masaki chuckled. "Oh, Korra, you still don't get it. I don't want to _kill_ you. That's missing the point. See, the problem with death is that it's an _end_. You can't suffer once you die. You can't feel empathy, or sadness, or remorse. Once you die, it's painless. Over and done with, like falling asleep. I _wish_ my mother just died from her injuries. It would have been a far better fate than watching her struggle, day after day, year after year, and be broken down before fading away. I am not letting you get away with death. Death is too good for you. You need to suffer for what you've done."

"It's not my fault what happened to her!"

"It sure as hell is someone's fault," Masaki said darkly, "and I don't see anyone else coming up to take the blame."

Masaki paused, as if suddenly distracted. As the water level continued to rise past Lee's waist, she heard a faint voice in the background of the call. She perked up, trying to hone in on what it was attempting to say, but it was too weak to understand.

"Why would I do that?" Masaki asked the unheard person. "Why don't you—That doesn't make sense! Shut up or—"

Masaki paused again, and let out a frustrated sigh. He disappeared, and Korra heard thick static as the phone was passed around and carelessly shoved into place. Korra held her breath, waiting anxiously, until finally she heard a soft, barely audible voice call her name.

"Korra."

And in that moment, the Avatar's heart broke.

"Asami!" Korra cried, tears starting to well in her eyes. "Are you alright? I've been so worried about you."

"Korra." Asami tried to speak further, but began to cough violently. Her voice was strained and tired, as if all the youth and energy had been slowly, deliberately drained out of it. Korra could not imagine what Masaki had done to her over the past several days to weaken her so badly.

"It's going to be okay, Asami," Korra said hurriedly, feigning confidence. "I'm going to get you out of there. I promise, everything is going to be okay. I can save you. I can…"

Korra stopped as she heard Asami laugh coldly.

"Korra," Asami muttered knowingly, "what are you doing?"

"What… what are you talking about?" Korra asked, confused.

"I know what you've been going through," Asami said to Korra's surprise. "He wants you to make a choice between who you want to save. But I know, and _you_ know, that there isn't really any choice at all."

"Of course, there's a choice," Korra said, desperately trying to reject the thoughts that she fully knew to be true. "I can save you. I've come this far. There's only one game left. I can still do this."

"Korra, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when you're lying… especially to yourself," Asami claimed weakly. "You're going to save the kid. You have to."

Korra watched the water rise to Lee's neck. He struggled in the tank, flopping around like a fish, trying to stay afloat the best he could with his leg anchored to the bottom.

"That's not true," she said, choking out her words. "I can help you. There's still time. If you tell me where you are, I could get help and—"

"That's not going to work, and you know it. You have to do something fast, or he is going to die."

"How am I supposed to save him?" Korra asked, pained. "You're asking me to _sacrifice _you. I can't do that, I can't."

"It's going to be okay, Korra," Asami said soothingly. "It'll be okay."

"No, it's not fucking _okay_!" Korra shouted, tears streaming freely down her cheeks, rationality escaping her. "It's _you_. I'm not giving you up like this! I swore to always be there for you. It's not ending like this. I can save you. There has to be another way…"

"I know this must be hard for you," Asami sniffled. "I'm sorry that you're stuck doing this. But this isn't going to fix anything. I know you don't want to do this—and believe me, I wish there was another way—but it's the right thing to do."

"How is _this_ the right thing to do?" Korra screamed. Her vocabulary was stripped from her mind, and she cobbled together sentences from the paper-thin words that floated onto her tongue. "Letting you _die_ is the right thing to do? Letting you _suffer_ is the right thing to—How do you expect me to do this? This isn't…Without you, I'm… I'm…"

"The Avatar," Asami said forcibly, "and as the Avatar, you have a responsibility to save that child. It's in your blood. You told me yourself: Sometimes, you must sacrifice things for the greater good. I fell in love with you because you are the most selfless person I have ever met. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if you let that child die, you will _never_ be able to forgive yourself."

Korra fell to her knees, clawing her hand through her hair, struggling to breathe through her sobs. "I can't… I can't…"

The water passed above Lee's head, as the boy took in his final gasps of oxygen before being dragged under the surface.

"Korra, _please_," Asami begged, "we both know how this is going to end."

Korra felt ill. She wanted to wake up. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to wake up from her nightmare. She could not move. She could not think. She could not act. She was a useless coward. She was weak. She couldn't save them. She couldn't save anyone. She was worthless. She was a failure. No matter what she did, someone was going to die, and it would be all her fault. What was she going to do? What was she going to do?

But then, Asami's voice returned, weaker than before, yet also as gentle and warm as the day they first met.

"Korra," Asami whispered, "I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there when I said I would. Sorry for never being the kind of person you wanted me to be."

"Don't be sorry," Korra moaned. "Just don't. Don't…"

"And I'm sorry so that our relationship never worked the way we thought it should have," Asami continued, smiling as she shed her tears. "It's my fault that I pushed myself away, that it took so long for us to get back on track. I think I was afraid of getting too close to someone again after losing everyone else and… you didn't deserve that. You probably deserved a whole lot better than me."

"Please, _please_, stop talking like that."

"Listen to me carefully. These past four years have been the best of my entire life."

"I'm begging you; please _stop_… I can't…"

"I am so thankful that I had the chance to meet you," Asami said sweetly. "If I had the chance to do it all over again, know that I would do it in a heartbeat. You are incredible, and I know that you are going to continue do incredible things. You never needed me, because everything about you was perfect right from the start. Don't you ever forget that."

"Please," Korra begged, hopeless. "I don't want you to go."

"Sorry" Asami said with a small laugh, "but the world needs its Avatar. It needs you. Now, go and be the hero that I know you are."

"I… I will," Korra nodded. Her breathing calmed, and the tears started to dry. Soon, she stopped sobbing, and the emotions that had overwhelmed her seconds ago became repressed inside of her, replaced with something far more terrifying: finality.

"I love you so, _so_ much, Korra," Asami whispered tenderly.

Korra closed her eyes. For a moment, she could almost feel Asami standing next to her, warming her with her presence. She could feel Asami whisper directly into her ear, like she had done so many times before. She could practically feel Asami's hand gently wrapping around her own, and for a moment, she stopped trembling, and became perfectly still.

But then, Korra opened her eyes, and the dream died.

"I love you, too."

Without another word, Korra smashed the phone on the hard, concrete floor, reached out with one hand, and shattered the glass tank. Lee was carried out by the water, and he splashed about like a fish upon reaching left. He sputtered sickly, but at least Korra knew he was still alive. She fell backwards, sitting dully on the floor, watching through her tangled hair as he recovered. It took a few minutes for him to regain his breath, but he managed to rise to his feet, mostly intact.

"Th-thank you," he said, shivering from the cold. Korra did not respond. He walked towards her, but her eyes did not follow him. If it were not for her shaky breathing and the rigid rise and fall of her chest, he wouldn't have even known that she was still alive. "Excuse me? Are you okay, Avatar Korra?"

Suddenly, Korra's hand shot downwards, and planted itself into the earth. Korra felt the energy of the world rush into her. Her mind raced throughout Republic City, zooming past cars and citizens as it searched fervently for its target. It did not take long before she found Asami's energy, and locked down its location. She stood up and walked towards the door unnaturally, like she was a puppet being orchestrated by her strings. She paused at the entrance, turning around to face the boy. He backed away in fear; the only sign of life she wore was the indescribable fury burning in her eyes.

"Wait here. Help will come for you," she ordered. He could tell something was off with her voice. It was deeper and rawer than the last time he saw her. She turned away again and resumed her undead march outside, when he shouted at her.

"Wait! What are you doing?" he asked fearfully.

Korra did not look back. She kept one foot in front of the other, walking steadily towards the end.

"I'm going to finish this."


	41. Breakdown

**Note: Thank you to everyone who has followed this story through to the end. For all intents and purposes, this is the last chapter of _Crescendo_. The next two chapters will mainly serve to tie up any loose ends, so you can consider this the end. We've put a lot of thought and hard work into this, so we hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

On the eve of sunset, they approached their target. The partially-destroyed, ten-storied complex remained standing in the deserted city block, a remnant of the old Republic City. Before Kuvira unleased her reign of destruction, the building housed hundreds of well-off families. But when a simple blast from the spirit cannon tore through the roof, erasing the upper three floors and causing debris to cascade down onto its residents, it became abandoned and discarded, wholly worthless. Now, only two people remained in its ruined skeleton, and soon, they would remain no longer.

Korra rode in the passenger seat of Lin's squad car as they reached the desolate structure. Ten officers followed closely behind, followed by two ambulances. Lin was hesitant to bring any more of them. She insisted that their operation was a rescue mission, that the hostile was a mere child, that his main weapon was surprise, and that they did not need any more assistance to bring him down. Korra ignored her advice and stayed silent for their ride. She merely breathed through her nose and kept her eyes transfixed on her damaged hands. When they parked outside of the ruined structure and stepped outside of the car, Lin had to grab Korra's arm to stop her from racing into the building.

"Let go of me," Korra demanded. Her voice did not rise in pitch, but its passion and fury was unmistakable.

"We need a plan of attack," Lin stated. Korra growled. The other officers gathered around them, waiting impatiently for their instructions. "Boys, you know what we're up against. Our number one priority is ensuring that Asami Sato is located and brought to safety. You will be split into two teams of six. Avatar Korra will lead Squad 1 on a thorough search through the ground floor up. I'll take Squad 2 up to the roof, and we'll start searching from there. Stay in contact. If all goes well, we'll converge in the center and locate the target."

"And Masaki?" asked Korra.

"The kid should also be somewhere in the complex," said Lin. "We don't what kinds of defenses he might have set up. Don't let your guard down, and don't let him get to you. He may look innocent, but he will not hesitate to use lethal force. I have faith that you all can handle him, but remember, our number one priority is rescuing Asami. The boy won't have any escape route, and hopefully, we can make a clean arrest before anyone else gets hurt. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" came the men's enthusiastic reply. Korra balled her hand into a fist.

"Yes, ma'am," she muttered under her breath.

"Then, let's get moving. Time is short."

As Lin and her squad ascended the side of the building with their metal cables, Korra and the others charged through the building's front entrance, breaking the rusted metal off its hinges. The broken lobby was small, containing nothing except a stairwell and piles of rubble resting in the darkness. Korra hurried up the stairs, pushing past the sluggish police officers. She jumped up two steps at a time, using blasts of air to push herself faster. When she reached the top of the two flights, she shoved open the door to the first floor, and stopped dead in her tracks.

Each floor featured two rows of six apartments each, attached to the front and back of the building, with a single, long corridor connecting the two. The stairway emerged in the center of the H-shaped structure, though Korra could hardly tell due to the overwhelming darkness. The power had long since been deactivated, and the primary source of light were flashlights and dim lanterns scattered haphazardly on the floor, their thin light barely cascading off the walls. Korra lit a ball of fire in her palm, and took a step forward. She felt a thick crunch underneath her boot; looking down, she discovered that the entire floor was covered with broken glass.

She pressed on, undeterred, stepping over the glass as she made her way down the corridor, and walked up to one of the many apartments. With her shaky hand, she pushed the door open, and jumped back as a meat hook suddenly swung from inside the room and nearly reached her face.

"He's boobytrapped the apartments!" Korra called out to the other officers. "Watch yourselves!" She moved past the hook, and examined the room. More rubble. More dust. No life. She went to the next room, and carefully opened the door. A bucket of nails fell harmlessly to the floor, and she checked inside. When the she finished her search, she heard an officer call that the floor was clear, and they needed to move on.

She climbed the next flight of stairs more quickly than the last. Her breath grew rigid as she stormed across more broken glass, pushing another apartment door. She blasted the falling bucket of nails away with a gust of wind, quickly scanned the room, and moved on to the next. Her heartbeat grew faster as she came to each new door. The concrete building smelled like death and charcoal, and was unbearably hot. Her skin clung to her muscle like a thick coat, and the dull air made it difficult to breathe, let alone focus on the task at hand. She stormed from one room to the next, gazing inside for only a few seconds at a time before moving on to the next. By the time the squad gave the order to move on, she had finished five rooms and was already sprinting halfway up the stairs.

When she reached the third floor, she skidded to a halt. The broken glass was gone. In its place were rows upon rows of bear traps, their jaws open and waiting to feast on her flesh. However, something else caught her attention. Somewhere on the floor came he faint sound of opera music. She turned left, walking slowly down the hall, bending the pressure plates on the traps as she went, causing them to snap shut with tremendous force. As the opera music grew louder, her pace grew quicker, until she was back running down the hall, scanning each of the six doors. Eventually, her gaze fell onto the final door packed tightly into the back corner of the hallway. She heard the police running up the steps in the distance, but she did not wait for them. Without further hesitation, Korra reached forward, and opened the door.

The first thing that hit her was the smell of blood. She recoiled in disgust, but forced herself further inside. A record player sat in the corner, spewing melodic, operatic tunes that sounded as if they came straight from the stage. In the center of the room was a single chair, its arms wrapped in bloody barbed wire, and a pool of blood beneath it. However, the chair was empty. The room was empty. Asami was not there.

"I've been waiting for you, Korra."

Korra looked up in surprise to find Masaki's grin glowing through the darkness. He clung to an old lamp like a spider on its web, swinging from the ceiling in his dark grey school uniform, a switchblade in his free hand. Before Korra could react, he lunged on top of her, slashing her across her shoulder before rolling to his feet behind her. He made a mad dash down the hallway, running and sliding over the startled policemen as they poured into the hallway. Korra furiously chased after him, ignoring the pain and the blood dripping steadily from the open wound.

"Get back here, Masaki!" she shouted, forcibly shoving the officers out of her way.

"Avatar, he's not the primary target," one of them yelled after her, but she did not care. She followed him up the stairs to the fourth floor, seething with rage. He bolted down another hallway, jumping from wall to wall to avoid the line of beartraps just beneath his feet. Korra screamed, and launched a stream of fire out of her palms, launching herself after him. Masaki reached the end and froze, realizing that he was stuck in a dead end. Instead of panicking, he smirked, and threw up his arms in defeat before Korra tackled him violently to the floor.

"Where is she?" she growled, wrapping her hands around small throat.

"I'm impressed that you managed to find us, Korra," Masaki said with a grin. "I was starting to get worried that you'd never show up."

Korra snarled and picked him up by his collar. She walked over to the closest beartrap, and shoved his head in the opening, dangling him mere inches above the trigger. His loose dark hair nestled between the spikes, but he did not seem to mind.

"I said," Korra said with intensity, "where _is_ she?"

"This won't work, Korra," Masaki smiled. "We both know that you don't kill people. It's not in your nature. Nothing you can do could possibly harm me."

With a scream, Korra lifted him away from the trap, and threw him against the stone wall. He let out a pained gasp, but his smile did not disappear.

"Where is she?" Korra screamed.

"You knew what would happen if you lost the games."

Korra grabbed Masaki's hair, and dragged his face against the stone surface.

"Where is she?"

"She kept telling me that you would come for her…"

Korra booted Masaki in the head, breaking his nose beneath.

"Where is she?" Korra shouted, her anger reaching a boiling point.

"She really thought you would save her," Masaki gurgled. "In fact, she wouldn't stop talking about it. No matter what I did—"

Korra punted Masaki in the stomach. He curled up into a ball on the floor, moaning in agony, but he kept smiling through the pain.

"Where. Is. She?" Korra demanded. She picked Masaki up off the floor, and pinned him against the wall. Blood dripped freely from his fractured nose. His eyes could not focus, so Korra grabbed him by the throat and forced him to meet her gaze.

"You know _exactly_ where she is," Masaki said, dazed but still mocking in his tone. "When you hung up the phone, she tried to escape. She wriggled free of her bonds, and almost slipped out of the room. I couldn't have that, so I grabbed a crowbar and… you know…"

"Where the fuck is she?" Korra screamed once more, her voice echoing throughout the dark hallway. She slammed her fist into the wall beside Masaki's head, punching directly through the stone.

"She wouldn't stop screaming," said Masaki, his diction suddenly becoming more confident, more focused. "Every time I hit her, she just kept on _screaming_. And I thought to myself: 'How can I make that stop?' So, I took my knife…"

Masaki spoke very calmly, and his smile vanished. "I took my knife, and I cut her tongue out."

Korra went numb. All at once, her emotions left her. She felt cold, colder than she thought possible. She dropped Masaki to the ground, and backed away. She needed distance. She needed to think. She couldn't think. She tripped and stumbled over herself, collapsing against the nearby wall.

_No_, she thought. _This wasn't real. This wasn't happening_.

"And then, I guess I lost control of myself," Masaki said plainly, rising to his feet and wiping the blood from his face. "Once she started to bleed, she started to cry. And I couldn't stand the sight of her crying, so I took my knife, and I decided to gouge her eyes out… one at a time."

_No, no, no, no, no, _Korra begged. She clutched her chest. She couldn't breathe. It had to be a nightmare. She had to wake up. She had to wake up.

"Do you want to know what I did next, _Korra_," Masaki said, growing cruel. "Next went off her ears. Then her nose. And then lock after lock of her soft, pretty hair, just because I could."

"This isn't real. This isn't real…"

"But you see, Korra," Masaki scolded, "I was kind to her. I didn't want her to suffer, so I did something _merciful_, something you would never do. I handed her my knife, and let her do whatever she wanted with it. And after all her attempts to break out, all her attempts to _live_, do you know what she _did_ with that knife, Korra?"

Korra shut her eyes and covered her ears, rocking herself back and forth, shuddering, trembling, unable to speak.

Masaki dragged a lone finger against his throat. "She _ended_ it, Korra. She just threw it all away. It's _over_, Korra! She's gone! You had the chance to save her life, and you wasted it! Her death, and her suffering, is on _you_. After all these years, you finally get to know what it's like to fail someone. To _lose_ someone. The game is over. You lost!"

And then, Korra stopped moving. Her whimpers and moans ceased, and she became completely still. Masaki dropped to his knees, and placed his heads behind his head.

"I've proven my point," he said, satisfied. "You can arrest me now."

Korra did not move. Masaki eyed her up and down, and repeated himself.

"You can take me in now," he said, mildly annoyed. "I promise I won't fight back."

Still, Korra said nothing. Curious, Masaki stood up, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you even liste—"

There was a sudden gust of wind, and Masaki flew backwards down the hall, tumbling limply next to his traps. He recovered, looking upwards, and froze. Korra rose to her feet, her head hung low, her chest heaving, and a blue flame lit in her damaged palm. Her eyes were gone, replaced with two powerful blue orbs, focused directly on the twelve-year-old boy in front of her.

And in that moment, Masaki realized that he had made a terrible mistake.

Korra screamed, her voice a thousand strong, and a burst of flame flew out of her hand and sailed towards her target. The intense fire consumed the hallway, and thinking quickly, Masaki dove into the stairwell, narrowly missing the blast, though he could still feel its incredible heat. Desperate, he ran up the stairs, knowing that the officers below would soon catch up. The roof was his one chance. He just had to make it there.

"Hey! Stop right there!"

Masaki looked upwards, and panicked. Lin raced down the stairs from above, her squad directly behind her. He hurried into the fifth floor hallway, and ran to hide in one of the apartments, sprinting over more broken glass. Before he could, Lin burst into the hallway, and shouted him down.

"Don't move!" she ordered. Masaki paused, turned around, and in a moment of weakness, ran towards her, fear-stricken.

"I surrender!" he shouted, worriedly. "I surrender! Don't let her—"

The ground rumbled, and Korra suddenly erupted from the floor, grabbing Masaki and flying him up to the sixth floor. She launched him into the wall with all the effort of moving a doll, and he fell over, out of breath and scared out of his mind.

"Masaki," Korra said, her voice like a crack of thunder.

Masaki grabbed a handful of broken glass, and threw it at her. With a swat of her hand, the glass shattered into dust.

"Korra, wait!" Masaki pleaded. "You don't have to do this. I'll turn myself in. I'll go to prison! I know I did something bad. You don't have to punish me."

Lin dragged herself through the hole in the ground, blocking Korra's path to the Hanzi Killer.

"Korra, that's enough," Lin said, holding her arms out. "He's willing to surrender. You don't have to do anything."

"Move," Korra demanded.

"This isn't the time for revenge, Korra!"

Korra summoned another ball of fire in her palm. "I. Said. _Move_!"

The Avatar threw the fire at Lin, forcing her to duck out of the way. When she was distracted, Korra lunged past her and grabbed Masaki by the throat. She took Masaki's left hand, and squeezed as hard as she could, encasing the limb in a sea of fire. The boy howled in pain, but Korra did not stop until his hand was charred to the bone, a perfect match for her own. Lin launched a metal cable to pull her away, but with a snap of her fingers, Korra launched the Police Chief aside.

"Hey, Masaki," Korra sneered. "Do you want to play a game?"

"Korra, he's still just a kid!" Lin shouted, but her words fell on deaf ears. Korra picked up Masaki by the throat, and slammed him into the floor. She flew him down several levels, the hard stone breaking against his back, until she was surrounded by beartraps. She dropped him, allowing him the chance to catch his breath.

"Okay, I lied, Korra! I lied, alright?" Masaki cried. "I didn't kill Asami. She's _fine_. I swear, she's fine. I hurt her a little bit, but it wasn't anything _serious_. I just wanted to see your reaction, that's all. I promise, I would never hurt her."

"The rules are simple," Korra stated, leaning in close to his terrified face. "Don't let me catch you."

Masaki picked himself up, and ran as fast as he could, but it did not matter. He only took a few steps before Korra levitated one of the remaining beartraps, and launched it at his leg. Upon contact, the trap snapped shut, jamming the rusted steel into his calf. He yelled out in torment and collapsed, writhing in pain like a worm. Korra was expressionless as she took a chunk of earth from the wall, and used her bending to whittle it into a small spike. She pressed her foot onto his forearm to stop him from moving, and hovered the spike above his last good hand.

"You lose," she said darkly. "This is your punishment."

The spike drove into his hand, piercing directly through the flesh. Masaki opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. His mind had been warped by the pain to the point of breaking. He felt like passing out, but Korra clenched down on his jaw, forcing him to stay awake.

"Not yet," she growled. "You need to feel all of this."

With one final feat of strength, Korra picked the child up by his jaw, and threw him at the wall. The stone caved in around him, and suddenly, Masaki was in freefall, plummeting three stories to the abandoned street below. He landed with a thud, bloodied and beaten. The fight was over. He could hardly move, but he knew that he had to get away. However, he never had the chance; within seconds, the Avatar landed at his feet, her enormous power unlike anything he had ever felt before. The monster towered above him, driven by fury, motivated by hatred; a being of pure power condensed into its most wicked, violent form. He tried to sputter out one final plea for his life, but his body would not let him. The Avatar stared him down, taking pleasure from his weakness, fulfilled by the pain she brought him. He waited for her to finish him, wondering what she would use to bring his demise.

Korra said nothing more. All she did was raise her bandaged hand, and close her fist.

At first, Masaki felt nothing. For about fifteen seconds, he checked himself over, trying to find what she did to him. He saw no new marks on his body, no new wounds or injuries. He studied himself, desperately trying to figure out what she was doing.

But then, he felt it, first in his chest, and then gradually spreading to his head. His vision blurred. His fingers started to lose their feeling. Breathing was harder than before, and he started to whimper, making bizarre moans and grunts. Then, all at once, it hit him; a massive unbearable pain erupted in his head, and he began to shake violently, uncontrollably. His brain felt like it was about to burst out of his skull, and he found himself gasping for air. He trembled, and Korra watched with her dead, blue eyes, her closed fist extended outwards.

"Do you feel that?" Korra asked him, speaking to him in hushed tones as her other voices echoed with contempt. "That's the feeling of me holding back the blood from rushing into your brain."

Masaki choked, his bloody legs flailing wildly, as his vision clouded further.

"You _killed_ her," Korra said hatefully. "She was the one good thing I had in this world, and you took her from me. She never did anything to harm you, and you _killed_ her. All so you could get to me. That is something I _cannot_ forgive."

The boy moaned, struggling to fill his lungs with air.

"You're right about one thing: I don't kill people. I don't want to kill _anybody_," Korra stated. Tears welled in her eyes. "But you're not really a _person_, are you? A _person _would never be so heartless. No, you're just a _creature_. A _thing_. A pathetic little _monster_ that doesn't deserve to exist with the rest of us. In fact, you don't deserve _anything_. The only thing you deserve is to be snuffed out like the insignificant bug that you are."

Korra stared into Masaki's eyes as the life began to fade from them. "Can I be honest with you? I thought that when I would do this, I would hate it. I thought I would be disgusted with myself. But I hate to admit it: It feels _good_. It feels right watching you die, knowing that your evil will be removed from the world, and knowing that it _hurts_. Truthfully… the only thing I hate is that I can only kill you once."

Lin ran out the front door, panicked. She saw Masaki tremble, and saw Korra's blank expression, and a sense of dread overcame her.

"Korra, stop this right now!" Lin called. She raced towards the Avatar, but Korra turned to look at her, and Lin shot backwards, rolling across the floor.

"Stay out of this, Lin!" Korra shouted. "This has nothing to do with you."

Lin recovered, planting her feet into the pavement below. Korra continued to launch strong gusts of wind in her direction, keeping her away.

"This is insane, Korra!" yelled Lin over the rush of wind. "You're going to kill him. You need to calm down."

"I will _not_ calm down!" Korra shouted back, furious. "He is _evil_! He doesn't deserve prison. Prison is too good for him."

"Dammit, Korra, look at yourself!" Lin pleaded. "You're bloodbending a child! He's suffering. This isn't right! You have to stop this!"

"You don't understand!" said Korra, as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. "He killed her! He took her from me! This is about what's _fair_. Asami's life for his. No exceptions!"

"What are you talking about?" Lin shouted, confused. "Asami is _fine_. We found her. She's going to be okay! You don't have to do this!"

Korra said nothing. She stared at Masaki. She could see the life nearly depleted from his eyes, his breathing crawling to a halt, and body becoming motionless at her feet.

"Korra, please!" shouted Lin. "Let us take him into custody. We'll do this the right way. Don't do something that you're going to regret!"

Korra closed her eyes. She could feel only the warmth of the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the hatred that consumed her heart. She did not know what to think or what to feel. She simply wanted to kill, to feed off another life, to get revenge against everyone who had wronged her. For a moment, she heard Asami call to her, begging her to stop. Was it a dream? A ghost? Or was Asami there, watching act on her most primal instincts, watching her claim another life as her own?

"Korra!" Lin shouted forcefully. "I am begging you: stop this right now!"

Masaki's trembles had become nothing more than twitches. His face was pale, and his wide smile long gone. There was almost no light left in his eyes. Korra opened her eyes, and looked at him. She no longer saw the Hanzi Killer; instead, she saw a child, scared, confused, and alone in a world that hated him, searching for the meaning in his life. He did not understand what he was doing, or why he was doing it, because he could not. For a moment, she felt sorry for him.

Then, she looked at her broken hand, curled into a fist, choking the life out of him; a hand that would never know the touch of another ever again, a hand she was forced to mutilate in a futile attempt to save the woman she loved. And Korra realized that she could not let go.

Masaki stopped moving all at once, as if a switch had been turned off in his brain. His hands relaxed, and his head fell to the side, staring blankly into the distance. His heart slowed, coming to one final beat before pausing indefinitely, and a single breath escaped his lips. The wind stopped howling, and Lin stood upright, watching in horror. Korra unclenched her fist, and it was only then that she realized how much her own hand was trembling. She released a shaky breath that she didn't realize she had been holding in, and left the Avatar State. She stood motionless on the street for what seemed like an eternity, crying silently as she looked at the corpse in front of her.

Then, Korra dropped to her knees, dug her fingers into her hair, and screamed. She screamed as loudly as she could, letting her voice carry through all of Republic City. She screamed until her throat was raw and bloody, and then she screamed further, letting out weeks of pain, of anger, of sadness, of guilt, of torment all at once. Every emotion she had ever buried suddenly flooded back to the surface. She screamed out the madness and the resentment, the ache and the need, until her voice was completely gone. She felt Lin gently wrap her arms around her from behind, cradling her like a child.

"I'm sorry," Korra sobbed, barely louder than a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Korra," Lin said quietly. "It's over now. It's all over."

"I'm sorry," Korra repeated over and over again, until it was all she could think about. She had regressed into a blubbering mess, a shell of her former self, incapable of anything other than those two simple words. Lin held her as the sun set below the horizon, removing the last traces of light from the city streets, draping the remains of the boy before them in darkness, the final victim of the Avatar's wrath.


	42. Consequence

**Note: Nothing new this time. The final chapter/epilogue will be out next week. See you then. Enjoy.**

* * *

When the news was released, Republic City breathed a collective sigh. Overnight, the panic that had engulfed it disappeared, replaced with relief and a sense that the world would finally go back to normal. The official story was that the Hanzi Killer was killed by police during a raid at his hideout after resisting arrest, and his death was entirely accidental, brought about by his own wrongdoing. There was no mention of the Avatar, no specifics of what killed him, and only a name was ever released to the public, a lone clue to the Killer's identity.

Korra did not pay much attention to the news beyond that. She was not sure whether or not anyone managed to piece together the rest of the case, or if anyone even cared. She could hardly pay attention to anything anymore. Perhaps there was a swarm of journalists outside, waiting to hear a statement from her, or perhaps the Hanzi Killer would disappear before the week was out, as the deaths and the chaos vanished from the mind of the public. All she could think about was the woman behind the door, and the unending stream of doctors moving in and out.

Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours later, and she still couldn't stop thinking of her. She knew that if she stopped thinking of her for even a moment, then the memory would flood back, the guilt would return all at once and destroy her. Worrying was for the best. When she was worried, she didn't have to think; she simply had to feel. It wasn't difficult to feel at all. Anger and fear came to her naturally when they once seemed foreign, and she let those emotions in as she stared at the door in wait.

The doctor came out, and Korra looked at her halfheartedly. It was the same doctor who had treated their wounds for nearly a month, the same doctor that came out every few hours to provide updates on Asami's condition, the same doctor that Korra was sick of seeing, and the same doctor who probably felt the exact same way about her.

"She's doing well," the doctor claimed. "She's been stable for the past eight hours, and responsive for the past two. I hope you realize how fortunate it is that we got to her in time. Another couple of minutes, and she would have died from blood loss."

"She's talking?" Korra asked.

"Right now, its more of a series of gestures-"

"But she could talk if she wanted to, right?"

The doctor did not understand the question, but nodded all the same. Korra breathed a sigh of relief.

"And... are her eyes okay?"

The doctor cleared her throat. "Actually, that was what I wanted to talk to you about. Now that Asami appears to have stabilized, I would like to go over her injuries with you, and discuss possible treatment options."

Korra took a deep breath, and exhaled shakily.

"Okay," she said nervously. "What's wrong with her?"

"You, um," stammered the doctor, "might want to sit down. There's a lot to cover."

Korra followed the doctor's instructions, sliding against the wall and sitting cross-legged on the cold tiled ground. Korra stared at the doctor blankly, unmoving, as she rattled off the injuries in a cold, calculative tone.

Four deep stab wounds in the lower abdomen; caused by switchblade.

Multiple shallow slash wounds across her firearms and wrists; caused by barbed wire.

Comminuted fracture on the left humerus; caused by blunt object.

Oblique fracture on the right clavicle; caused by blunt object.

Amputated ring finger, separated at the proximal phalange; caused by switchblade.

Four crushed metacarpals on left hand; caused by blunt object.

Three crushed carpals on left hand; caused by blunt object.

Three crushed metacarpals on right hand; caused by blunt object.

Three crushed carpals on right hand; caused by blunt object.

Second-degree burns on her upper thighs; caused by boiling liquid.

Split lip; caused by blunt object.

Shattered orbital bone on right side; caused by blunt object.

Five broken ribs; caused by blunt object.

Collapsed lung; caused by damage to the chest.

When the doctor finished, she wiped the sweat from her brow, and cleared her throat again. "We've had our best healers taking care of her," she explained. "But it's important to understand something. When the body is as damaged as in her case, it becomes extremely volatile, and healing as we do when it is in that state can sometimes lead to further damage for the victim-"

"What are you saying?" Korra asked worriedly. "Are you telling me you didn't heal her?"

"Asami was healed as much as we thought was safe," stated the doctor, sensing the Avatar's anxiety. "Her case was one of the most severe I have seen in a long time. Her body and mind were undergoing unbelievable stress. We were concerned that if tried to alter her physical state too much, it would send her into shock, or worse, cardiac arrest. We tried to relieve her pain as much as possible, but it was a very scary few hours. The fact that she survived at all is a miracle."

Korra leaned backwards, resting her head against the wall, staring up at the accursed tile ceiling. She closed her eyes.

"I am so sorry," Korra said under her breath.

The doctor interjected. "Actually, there's one more thing that I need to tell you about. It's... pretty serious."

Korra shook her head. How much more serious could it possibly be?

"You know that trauma to the head I mentioned earlier?" the doctor said uncomfortably. "Well, it seems like what happened is that someone took a very heavy object and struck it across her face here." She took her hand, straightened it, and placed it against the side of her head at eye-level, showing the point of impact.

"A... a crowbar," Korra said suddenly, drawing from her buried memories. "I remember he said something about a crowbar..."

"Well, that crowbar broke directly through the skull at one of its thinnest points," said the doctor candidly. "The impact collapsed her eye cavity, crushing her optical nerve and causing the area to fill with blood. We managed to mostly restore the damage, but we couldn't save the eye; she's going to be permanently blind on her right side."

Korra shuddered. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"No, not exactly," said the doctor. "See, Asami was already suffering the effects of a severe concussion-"

"Yes?"

"And the impact was hard enough to reverberate-"

"Can you just tell me?" Korra asked with desperation. "Please, no medical bullshit. Just tell me what's wrong with her."

The doctor cleared her throat. Korra waited impatiently.

"Asami has brain damage," confessed the doctor.

Korra stared at her as if she had spouted an extra head. "Brain damage? What do you mean she has brain damage? I thought you said she was fine."

"From the perspective that she'd otherwise be dead, she is fine," claimed the doctor. "As for the damage itself, we don't know the extent. We don't really have the technology to determine that. Considering the scope of her injuries, I would assume the worst."

"What exactly does 'the worst' entail?" asked Korra, sinking deeper into the floor.

"Any number of things. Memory loss, loss of cognitive function, manic or depressed episodes, inability to distinguish imagination from reality; we won't know the symptoms until they occur. No matter what, though, Asami will most likely need help with her daily life. Are you two dating?"

"She's my-" Korra stopped herself. She didn't know what they were anymore. Friends? Lovers? The words seemed so meaningless now. She could barely believe that her life expanded beyond this single moment, that there was somehow an existence she lived before, and an existence she would live afterward. "Yeah, I guess."

"Right," said the doctor. "We're going to let her get some more rest, but if you want, you can come in and see her. I'm sure it would make her feel better."

Korra opened her mouth to respond, but she froze. She did not know why, but her lips curled automatically, instinctively, to say, "No." She longed for Asami for days, but now that they were about to reunite, she could not bring herself to see the woman she loved. She could not bear the look of disappointment, the guilt of not saving her when she had the chance. A part of her never wanted to see Asami again, and that terrified her.

Korra found a brief reprieve from her thoughts, as Lin approached them from down the hall, scowling and bitter. The doctor wisely stepped back into the room, leaving the two alone. Korra had not spoken to Lin since she arrived at the hospital, nor anyone else for that matter.

"Lin, thank you for-"

"Do you have any idea how mad I am at you?" Lin scolded. "Seriously, do you have any idea how much shit I have to shovel through? All the details I have to scratch from the records, the facts I had to bury so the press wouldn't get them? It could have been the biggest victory for the force in years, and you went ahead with your own little tirade of vigilante justice. You denied justice to all the families of the victims that needed it. Not to mention the fact that you actively defied police orders. You should be in custody—No, screw that; combined with the other act of assault, by all accounts, you should be in _prison_. A part of me wants to strangle you right now."

Lin took a deep breath, and sighed. "You are so lucky that I care about you, Korra. And I am far more worried about _you_ than the things you've done."

"Don't worry," Korra said. "I think I'm done with it."

"I hope you're done," said Lin. "I mean… _bloodbending_? That's considered a felony for a reason."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Korra stated bluntly. "I mean I'm done with bending. The Avatar State. All of it. I just can't anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lin asked, confused. "You're the Avatar. You can't give up on that and pretend like it's not a part of you."

"Why not?" Korra said with a shrug. "Most people live their lives without bending at all. I don't need it any more than they do."

"That's absurd, Korra," Lin groaned. "It's your job to protect the world. You can't do that without your bending."

"I _killed_ someone, Lin," Korra cried suddenly. "I-I hurt someone… I _tortured_ someone. And I _wanted_ to do it. It felt good knowing that he was in pain. It felt good squeezing the life out of him. That isn't protecting anyone. That's abuse. That's… _evil_. I swore that I would never do anything like that. I was supposed to be compassionate. Always. And I did that to someone…"

"If it makes you feel any better," Lin noted, "Masaki probably deserved it."

"No," Korra objected forcefully. "No, he didn't. It doesn't matter what he did. _Nobody_ deserves to die. If I start believing that I have the power to decide who lives and dies… how does that make me any different than him?"

"Because you're a good person," Lin stated. "You know that you're doing the right thing. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Masaki thought he was doing the right thing," said Korra. "Everyone always thinks they're doing the right thing. But I know what I felt. I didn't have to do anything to him. He was trying to surrender. He couldn't hurt anyone else, but I was so _angry_, and so _hurt_, and all I wanted was to watch another person suffer. That is not right. That will _never_ be right. I lost myself back there, and I never want that to happen again. So, I'm done. End of story."

The doctor peered her head out of the doorway, pausing their conversation.

"Korra," the doctor spoke in hushed tones, "if you want to see her, now would be the time."

Korra looked back at Lin, who gave a short nod of approval. Everyone's expecting eyes lied on her. Against her better judgment, she rose to her feet, and cautiously walked into the patient's room.

The first thought that popped into her head was how broken Asami looked. Her body was unusually pale, and bandages snaked around her, coiling her. Combined with the casts, she was practically unrecognizable, a nonmoving human shell. A portion of her face stuck out from the bandages and her dark, tangled web of hair: one green eye, which darted around the room aimlessly before locking its sights on her, and her quivering, broken lips, which curled into a half-smile upon noticing her presence. Korra tried to return the gesture, hoping that Asami would not notice its emptiness, and she kneeled beside the bed, gently placing one damaged hand atop of another.

"Hey."

"Hey," Asami said back, her voice nearly inaudible.

Korra was at a loss for words. She would have hugged Asami if not for the fact that the engineer looked like she would shatter under the pressure. The two of them remained quiet for a long moment, taking in the pleasure of one another's company. Then, Korra spoke up.

"How… how are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"I'm alright," Asami whispered. "It's all… a bit numb, actually…compared to before."

"Right. Right…" Korra said pleasantly. "Have you talked to the doctors?"

"Sort of," said Asami. "It's all pretty hazy, though."

"You don't remember what they told you?"

"It was… something about…" Asami moaned. Korra tightened her grip on her hand. "I'm sorry. I can't think of it now."

"That's okay. Take your time. No one is rushing you."

Asami sighed. She gently lifted her hand, and placed it on top of Korra's, her four fingers twitching lightly.

"Do you remember what happened before? Anything at all?"

"I… I think it… um…" Asami stammered. Her eye wandered up to the ceiling, and the rise-and-fall of her chest increased just enough that Korra took notice. "I-I w-was in a chair… a chair, and there w-was… t-there was this… I can't… there was—"

"Stop," Korra said suddenly. "You don't have to talk about it. It's not important anymore."

Gradually, Asami calmed down, and she snapped back to Korra, her eye wide.

"I heard what you did for me."

"What?"

"Those things he made you do," said Asami. "Those… trials, or… games… he told me about them."

Korra discreetly hid her branded hand from Asami's view.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" Asami asked. "I was so scared for you."

"He told me that he would kill you if I didn't do what he asked," Korra admitted shamefully. "Don't worry about it. You're the hurt one here."

"You didn't have to do any of that for me."

"Of course, I did. I love you," Korra explained. Her eyes traced their way down the rest of Asami's body, taking in every damaged inch of flesh. "This is all my fault."

"This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is," said Korra. "I could have saved you. I had the choice, and I could have saved you. You wouldn't be—"

"Don't talk like that," Asami said sternly. "You did what you had to do. You saved someone's life… and I am _so_ proud of you. I want you… to know that. More than anything else. I am proud of you for doing the right thing."

Korra stayed quiet. She did not tell Asami about Masaki's fate. Instead, she leaned forward, and placed a delicate kiss on Asami's torn lips.

"Get well soon, okay?" Korra whispered. "A lot of people are pulling for you."

"I thought you said no one was rushing me?" Asami teased. She laughed softly, using up the last of her energy.

"Well, you know me," Korra smiled in return. "I'm _always_ rushing you."

Asami took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, trying to relax. Korra gave one last squeeze to Asami's hand, and quietly left the room, gently shutting the door behind her. Lin had disappeared back to the waiting area. Korra made her way back, as well. It had just occurred to her that she hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in over a week, and all at once, it caught up with her. Now that the Hanzi Killer was dealt with, she had to think about what to do next, what direction her life would take. Yet, somehow, that did not seem important. Life could wait until tomorrow. Korra found the nearest chair, placed herself down in it, and fell fast asleep.


	43. Tomorrow (Epilogue)

**Two Months Later**

"I hate it."

Sy closely studied her reflection in the mirror. Since the bandages had come off, all she could do was stare breathlessly at her own timid reflection, as if it were a long-lost friend. Mako watched from several meters back, his arms crossed over his chest, studying her reaction more than anything else. The damage was not too noticeable to someone who was unaware, but Sy could not pull her eyes away. Two things set her off: one was her nose, which was flatter across the bridge, and generally puffier than its previous petite form; the other was the thin, darkened scar, contrasting sharply from her youthful, pale features, which carved a vertical pathway from the edge of her right nostril to the midpoint of her forehead.

Then there were her teeth, which, naturally, were off-colored. It wasn't as if she claimed to have perfect teeth before, but when her entire body was as white as a snowstorm, the slightest discoloration-as was present in the lowermost fragments of her front teeth-became all the more vibrant. Sy ran her hand along the features of her reconstructed face, and then pressed her palm against the cool glass of the mirror.

"It's wrong," she said, deeply disappointed. "They got it wrong."

"They had to rebuild it from scratch," Mako reminded her. "It's not like they could snap their fingers and make everything go back to normal."

"I get that," Sy said, turning to her boyfriend. "I'm glad they were able to do something, and I am really thankful for it. It's just... you'd think they'd use a reference photo or something. What the hell did they do to my nose?"

"Can you breathe?"

"Technically."

"That's what they did," said Mako. "Your nasal cavity collapsed. If the made it any smaller, you wouldn't be able to breathe. Besides," he added, "I like your new nose."

"Gee, thanks," Sy groaned. "I'll be sure to take that compliment and stick it next to my box of shattered hopes and dreams, which coincidentally happens to contain my face."

"Could you at least pretend to be a little more thankful?"

"I am thankful," Sy insisted. "Very thankful. Extremely thankful. But complaining about things is what I do best. It's a coping mechanism, and if I'm not allowed to cope for my busted face, then life will never be the same."

"I get you," Mako said. He pursed his lips, and paced awkwardly beside her. "So, a few months ago..."

"Yeah?"

"Right before the attack," Mako stated, "you said that you wanted to tell me something."

"I did?" Sy asked, thinking back to that pain-filled morning.

"You said that you had to tell me something about the 'real you.' Ring any bells?"

"I'll be honest with you," Sy said, scratching the back of her head. "I really don't remember anything. It's all kind of... blurry, you know? When you lose your face, you tend to forget the specifics."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything?" Mako paused. "Hikaru."

Sy froze, and stared at him blankly, as if she had seen a ghost. Mako stared right back at her, tapping his fingers against his forearm. She opened her mouth, and clicked her tongue.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Your mother."

"Dammit."

"Sy," Mako said slowly, "why do you not want to tell me your real name?"

"Because my real name sucks," Sy stated unenthusiastically. "It sucks, and I want nothing to do with it."

"It doesn't suck."

"Really, Mako? You don't see any problems with it?"

"Not really."

Sy groaned. "Hikaru Kyoriku? It _rhymes_, Mako! I can't go around with a rhyming name. It sounds like something out of a children's book. I don't know what my mom was thinking when she came up with it, but she was wrong. Wrong, wrong, and super wrong."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Of course, I'm not," Sy said defensively. "What would you think if your name was Mako Schmako? That's a terrible name. Hikaru Kyoriku: terrible name. Plus, I like the name, 'Sy.' Short and sweet, just like me."

"Is that so?"

"You know it."

Mako pulled her into a tender hug. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. And for what it's worth, I think it's a lovely name."

"Wow, look at you," Sy spoke happily into his chest. "You're really racking up the compliment points today. Special occasion."

"You've been covered in bandages for months," Mako stated. "That's all the occasion I need."

Sy nestled her head further into him, closing her eyes and absorbing his warmth. "I guess you're right. It's nice. Just the two of us for once."

Mako nodded, content with his place in life. He held her gently, rocking the smaller woman back and forth in his arms. It seemed strange to him that only a few months ago, he recoiled from the very same touch. "So, any other secrets you wanted to tell me, _Hikaru_?"

"Now that you mention it… yeah," Sy said with a grin. "I'm breaking up with you."

Mako's face turned white. Before he could react, Sy burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm joking, you idiot," she laughed. "But seriously though, don't call me that. Ever."

"Gotcha," Mako said, laughing nervously. "So, no more secrets?"

"Aside from me also being a serial killer?"

"That's not funny, Sy."

"What's not funny about seven corpses in my basement?"

"You have a very weird sense of humor."

* * *

The executive signed the contract without another word. He gave a simple nod to his suited partners, and handed the paper back to the pleased young woman sitting across the desk. She gave one last glance over the wording of the document, nodded in approval, and gently tucked it back into the dark grey folder in front of her.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," Zhu Li said sincerely. The board members grumbled collectively, which she took as a sign of agreement. She strode out of the plain room, down the plain hallway, and into the nondescript elevator. She rolled back and forth on her heels as she descended, quietly humming the tune of the catchy jazz song she heard on the radio just the prior week. Once she reached the ground floor, she passed by the secretary that stared at her bitterly, out the front door, and into the backseat of the stretch limousine parked on the curb, where her ecstatic husband greeted her joyously.

"Is it done?" he asked gleefully. Zhu Li handed him the folder, smiling proudly.

"It is," she boasted. "You, Iknik Blackstone Varrick, are now the proud owner of Ingenious Enterprises."

"Aha!" Varrick proclaimed, pumping his fists into the air. "That's what I'm talking about. Who knew it would be that easy to take control of a company after its owner had been declared a war criminal?"

"Remind me to send a thank you letter to Shang on your behalf," Zhu Li added. "Of course, I think they would confiscate his mail, but that's beside the point."

"That loser got what he deserved," Varrick stated with a shrug. "Now, what's our progress on the… you know?"

Zhu Li shook her head. "She said that she would need more time to think about it."

"How much time could that lady possibly need?"

"That business was her father's. It means a lot to her," Zhu Li claimed. "Not to mention, she isn't exactly all there these days, after the…" Zhu Li tapped her finger against her skull, and Varrick sighed.

"Fine. Give her all the time she needs. In the meanwhile, I've been doing some thinking. Now that our little merger is complete, someone is going to have to take over Ingenious Enterprises operations."

"Yes?" Zhu Li said excitedly.

"And that someone is going to be me," Varrick said proudly. Zhu Li deflated.

"Oh. Alright then."

"But since I'm going to be busy with that, I want you to take over Varrick Global Industries."

Zhu Li's heart nearly burst out of her chest. "You want _me_ to take over?"

"Do you want to?" he asked casually.

"Of course I—" Zhu Li paused, and quickly composed herself. "I mean… I think that is a solid decision, sir."

"Excellent," Varrick declared. "Since that's settled, I guess it's time for us to do the thing."

"Oh, yes," Zhu Li purred. She leaned in close to her husband, and caressed his chest. "We can absolutely do that."

Varrick lightly shoved her away. "No, not _that_ thing! That thing comes later. I meant the _other_ thing."

"Sorry," Zhu Li said, her cheeks turning a dark shade of red. "Driver, go to the place."

"The place?" asked the driver.

"The place."

"Heading to the place."

The limousine drove away from the offices of the couple's newly acquired property. It was truly a deal worth celebrating; they had bought the company for a fraction of its price, and under their guidance, they would lead it back to legitimacy. They were two of the three biggest leaders in the global market. Soon, they hoped to make it just the two of them.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over there?"

"Mom, I'm fine," Opal insisted. She adjusted her grip on the phone, and rolled over on her couch. She heard her mother sigh audibly.

"I'm just worried, is all" said Suyin. "I haven't seen you in so long. Maybe it would be a good idea to give you a visit."

"Mom, please," Opal groaned, placing her hand on her forehead. "I'm okay. I have friends here. Bolin is here. You don't need to come to Republic City."

"How is Bolin feeling? I haven't heard from him."

"Bolin is doing fine. He has a few scars, but nothing major."

"And are you one hundred percent sure that you're okay?"

Opal's hand wandered down to her lower stomach.

"I'm okay. I promise."

"Alright," Suyin said, discouraged. "I'll let you live your life. But would it kill you to give your mother a call every once in a while?"

"I'll be sure to call you more often," Opal said. She looked past her feet, and noticed Bolin entering through the front door, several bags of groceries underneath his arms. "I have to go. Love you, mom."

"I love you, too," said Suyin. "Stay safe."

Opal hung up the phone with a sigh, and groggily rose to her feet. Bolin placed the groceries on the counter, and began to unpack the various foods. Bolin was especially proud of how clean the apartment looked. Weeks of hard work paid off nicely, and unless one had been aware of the damage, they never would have suspected anything to be wrong with it. Opal reached into one of the bags, and took out a loaf of bread, setting it aside as she removed more items.

"Was that your mom?" Bolin asked innocently.

"Third time this week she's called," Opal answered. "I wish she didn't worry so much."

"She's just being a good parent," Bolin reasoned. "Don't stress it. I'm she knows that you can take care of yourself."

"Right." Opal emptied her first grocery bag, and moved onto the next.

"Hey," Bolin said suddenly, "are you still upset about the—"

"No, no," Opal said dismissively. "That's in the past. No use dwelling on it."

"If you want, we can try—"

"It's fine, Bolin," Opal said forcefully. She clenched her fist, digging her nails into her skin. Opal buried her gaze into the grocery bags, as Bolin went quiet. They did not say another word to each other, as they finished unpacking their groceries, as they used to do back then.

* * *

Lin leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes. She brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, and fought the urge to fall asleep. She had not slept the night before, or the night before that. She was too focused, her mind too distracted with its own thoughts to allow her any rest. Chen dumped another batch of files onto her desk, and she cracked her knuckles, readying herself for the work ahead.

"So, why do you want all these files again?" Chen asked, confused.

"I'm investigating something," Lin stated.

"But I don't get it," said Chen. "The Hanzi Killer case was closed months ago. We found the guy who did it, and we know his motivation. What exactly are you trying to find?"

"I'm not sure," Lin admitted. "But I have this feeling in my gut that we're missing something. Something important."

"How important?"

"Well, I've been thinking about this a lot recently," Lin explained. "When Masaki attacked Asami, she was inside of her estate on the outskirts of the city. But when we found her, she was in a rundown building near the spirit portal. Think about it: How on earth did this kid manage to transport her halfway across the city without anybody noticing? He couldn't have carried her all the way there, and we didn't find any vehicles near his hideout, not that he even knew how to drive. It doesn't make any sense, and it's the same for the other victims, too. They were stolen out of their beds in the middle of the night, yet somehow, nobody seemed to notice this? You're trying to tell me that a scrawny little kid dragged a full-grown man all the way to a warehouse on the pier, and the man couldn't fight back or call for help?"

"That _is_ pretty strange," Chen said with a thoughtful nod. "But we caught him in the act. He was the Hanzi Killer. Case closed."

"I know we caught him, but it doesn't add up. I just _know_ we're missing something important."

"Maybe the kid didn't do it?"

"No, the kid was involved somehow," Lin stated. "He attacked Asami, Bolin, and Opal. But I can't imagine this kid—a twelve-year-old kid—being able to come up with this grand scheme, and being able to pull it off all on his own. He knew things he shouldn't have known. He had to have help from somewhere."

"Who do you think it was?" asked Chen.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. According to his records, he didn't have any family, and it didn't seem like he had any friends to help him pull this off. There must be something that we've passed over, and I'm going to find it."

"Does that mean we're reopening the case?"

"No, not officially," Lin said sternly. "As far as everyone else is concerned, the Hanzi Killer is dead and buried. I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Yes, ma'am," Chen said, turning to leave the room. He stopped in the doorway, and added, "No offense, ma'am, but I hope you're wrong about this." The officer left the room, and Lin let out a tired sigh.

"So do I."

She leaned forward on her desk, and opened the first file.

* * *

"Korra, where are we going?" Asami asked impatiently.

"You'll see," said Korra. The Avatar quickly pulled Asami along, who covered her eyes with one hand per her girlfriend's request. It was Asami's first day out of the hospital, yet she barely had a moment to enjoy herself before Korra swooped her up, tucked her into her car, and raced her across the city. When they came to a stop, Korra whispered into her ear. "Okay. You can open your eyes now."

Asami did as instructed, and stood silently, taking in her surroundings. She was inside a vast studio apartment, decorated sparsely with soft, high-end furniture. A kitchen, complete with a stovetop and a full set of cooking utensils was directly to her left, while to her right, she could spot the master bedroom through a door that had been left ajar, noting that it had already been in use for several weeks. Ahead of her, past the living room with the dark blue carpet and brick fireplace where several pictures of the two of them rested on an overhanging shelf, were two large windows, from which she had a perfect view of the spirit portal, emitting tremendous levels of energy into the clouds above. Asami spun around like a top, her mouth hanging open from the wonderful shock.

"What is this?" she asked, still stunned and searching for adequate words to describe her feelings. Korra stepped further into the room, and tucked her hands into her pockets.

"This is home," Korra said with a soft smile. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" Asami asked, wandering over to the kitchen countertop. "I… I can't even… did you buy this with your own money?"

"I thought it would be unfair if you got the bill for something you didn't know existed," Korra stated, "so, yeah. I bought this."

"You really didn't have to do that. I have money to spare."

"Don't worry about it," Korra said sheepishly. "A lot of people chipped in to help. When I told them that I wanted to get you a new place to live, they couldn't resist."

"This is…" Asami paused to find the words. "This is wonderful, Korra. I don't know what to say."

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to be happy. Besides, I think we're well overdo for a place of our own."

"Yeah. Sure…"

Asami wandered aimlessly, childlike, around the apartment, slowly absorbing the visual splendor. Korra smiled to herself. She stared out the window at the spirit portal, unchanged since the day it was created. She thought it was funny how in the span of only a few months, things could change so rapidly. It was bizarre to think that things had been so peaceful before, how she had been so full of blind optimism. But those days were over. Her eyes drifted skyward, where a patch of grey clouds had conquered the air.

"Hey, Asami," Korra said, forcing herself away from the window, "do you want to see the bedroom? It's really—"

Korra froze. Asami stood by the fireplace, unmoving, her arms dangling limply at her side. Her unfocused eyes were locked directly onto a photograph of the two of them.

"Asami?" Korra called, taking a step closer. Asami did not move. "Asami? Is everything okay?"

Korra placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Asami tensed up from the touch, and suddenly snapped to attention, as if awoken from a dream. Her eyes were moist, and Korra moved to wipe the tears from her face.

"Is something wrong?" Korra asked, concerned.

"I don't…" Asami stammered. She motioned to the photograph of the two of them. "I can't remember this. I… I just can't…"

Asami slowly collapsed into Korra's arms, and cried softly into her shoulder. Korra held her as she rocked back and forth, gently combing her fingers through Asami's long, dark hair.

And then, for a moment, Korra understood. For months, she had struggled and fought to find a reason, but all at once, it came to her. She never knew why Masaki let Asami live. It would have been easy for the child to take her life, but he refused to, and Korra never knew why. But suddenly, it made sense. If Asami had died, she would have mourned and grieved, but she would be able to survive past it. She would be able to continue with her life. Instead, her life as she knew it was essentially over. She would spend the rest of her days as Asami's caretaker, tending after the shell of the woman that she once loved, dedicating herself to taking care of the shattered remains of a human being. Every morning, she would wake up to her new life, except she would no longer see Asami beside her; all she could see was a spirit forever broken, a constant, painful reminder of her own failure.

Korra brushed that thought aside. She reminded herself that she loved Asami. She loved Asami very much. She cooed in Asami's ear, and told her that they would fix it. She told Asami that she would recover, and before she knew it, everything would return to normal. She told Asami that, no matter what, she would be there for her, and most importantly, everything would be okay.

She was lying.

* * *

**Note: After two long years, it's finally finished. We want to give a very special thank you to everyone who followed this work all this time, and waiting with us through all of our long waits between updates. We've put a lot of work into this, and we hope that you've all enjoyed it. Tell us below: What did you think of it? What were some of your favorite parts? You least favorite parts? Leave your questions, comments, and concerns down in that box right underneath this paragraph. Do it. Do it now. Contribute to society and do it. Anyway, until next time, this is GodSaveTheKings saying farewell, and have a pleasant day.**


	44. Andante and Allegro

"_Is it ready?_"

"Soon. It's strange to think that after all these years, it'll finally be finished. Still, we have more important things to worry about. We're only four; that leaves us two short."

"_We apologize, ma'am. We would have had five if not for the boy's incompetence. Despite all our best efforts, he was brought down by his own emotions. We failed you._"

"Don't worry, Markhor. The child never had what it took in the first place. I think it's best to move onto more proven options. I've sent the ghost out to the Boiling Rock to obtain Jackdaw. With a bit of reeducation, I think he will be quite useful."

"_And what about the Sixth?_"

"I think I found a suitable candidate. It might take some persuasion to make her leave Republic City, but before the month is over, she will come join us. And once she does, we will finally take back what's ours."

* * *

Asami bolted upright, waking in a cold sweat. Her heartbeat pounded violently in her ears, and she clutched her hand to her chest, struggling to catch her breath. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness around her; she was safe and sound in her bed, like she always was. She curled her legs underneath the sheets, instinctively drawing herself inwards for protection.

She had it again. The one where she could not move. The one where her limbs were constricted, and all sense of control was stripped away from her. The scenario changed each time. Once, she was trying to flee the countryside to escape police custody. Another, she was trapped in a fighting tournament against an opponent twice her size. Another, she was a child running away from indescribable terrors. The narrative changed, but the feelings of absolute horror and helplessness did not. It was the fourth time in the past five days, and no matter how hard she tried, she always found herself startled awake in the early hours of the morning, desperately trying to keep the fear at bay.

Then, there was the other constant. Asami did not turn to look, because she knew exactly what was there: Korra lied sleeping in her pajamas, her face covered with loose strands of hair, as she pretended that she was fast asleep. Asami sighed, and brushed several beads of sweat from her forehead with her disfigured hand.

"How long have you been awake?"

Korra's eyes flickered open. "About an hour," she responded groggily.

"Dammit," Asami cursed, punching the mattress beneath her. "Not again."

"It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is," said Asami, frustrated. She turned towards Korra, and even in the near-complete darkness, it was easy to see the pain on her face. "I hate this. Every single night, I feel like I'm screwing you over."

"Really," Korra said calmly, "it isn't a big deal."

"How much sleep have you gotten in the past week?"

Korra did not respond immediately. When Asami pressured her, she groaned and sat up in bed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"About ten hours." Asami turned away, and Korra quickly moved to place a hand on her shoulder. "I don't need it. Really. I'm way more concerned about you right now."

"No," Asami said in protest. "We're not doing this. Please, just go back to sleep."

"We _are_ doing this," said Korra, gentle yet firm. "So, what was your dream about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"If you don't talk about it, you can't fix it."

"_Please_, go to sleep," Asami pleaded.

"I'm not going to sleep until you do," Korra said bluntly.

Korra was lying to her. Asami knew that no matter what happened, the Avatar would not get any more sleep for the rest of the night. Either they would both stay awake until morning discussing each other's problems, or Asami would drift back to sleep in Korra's arms, and sneak in a few hours of dreamless rest while her lover watched over her. Neither option was what she wanted, but in the year since the incident, getting what she wanted was not a possibility.

"I… I can't remember it," Asami said weakly.

"You don't remember, or you don't want to remember?"

"You're not my therapist, Korra," Asami moaned.

"Until you agree to see one, I am," Korra returned. "Now, what was your dream like? Was it the same one?"

"It was the one with… ugh, this is pointless," Asami said bitterly. Korra sighed and shuffled behind her, wrapping her bare arms around Asami's shoulders. She pecked her on the cheek before nestling her head into her neck. The damaged woman did not respond to her touch.

"Hey, I get that you're frustrated," Korra spoke tenderly. "I know that this sucks. A lot. But we're going to be okay. It doesn't feel like it sometimes, but we can still work through this. But you need to be _honest_ with me, alright? I can't do anything if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"You know exactly what's wrong," Asami whimpered.

"Then why are you closing yourself off?"

Asami growled. Without warning, she took Korra's arms and forcibly removed them, while pushing away her sheets with her legs. She stood up, marched to the closet and grabbed her robe, as Korra watched patiently from the bed.

"I can't do this right now," she snapped, furiously putting on the robe and tightening it around her waist. "I need some time to think. By myself. I'm sorry."

She stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Once inside, it was only a matter of seconds before she pressed her back to the wall and sank to the floor, trying to fight back tears. She pushed swaths of hair out of her face as she tried to rationalize her actions, but she could not. She should not have yelled at Korra. That was wrong; Korra was only trying to help her. Her emotions were no longer under her control. She was too mean, too tense, too _everything_ all at once, and it drove her mad.

They had lived together for nine months, but there was never any intimacy between them. Of course, they kept up the illusion for the sake of others as well as their own. They talked on a daily basis, slept in the same bed, and even kissed each other on occasion, but the passion was long gone, torn up and broken like everything else in her pathetic little life. She could not eat. She could not sleep. She could no longer feel the satisfaction of the wind whipping through her hair as she sped along the highway, or the innate satisfaction of completing a difficult project for her company. It was as if her life had taken the shape of one of her nightmares. No matter the context, she was constricted, and she hated it.

Asami did not know how her life could possibly get any worse. She had no idea how wrong she would be.

* * *

**Note: _The sequel to Crescendo_-_Andante and Allegro-_is now available.**


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